Mr. Sabin shook his head. “I am ten years older,” he said, “and the Shah who was my friend is dead.”
“The new Shah,” Felix said, “has a passion for intrigue, and the sands around Teheran are magnificent for golf.”
Mr. Sabin shook his head.
“Too hard,” he said, “and too monotonous. I am peculiar perhaps in that respect, but I detest artificial bunkers. Now there is a little valley,” he continued thoughtfully, “about seven miles north of Teheran, where something might be done! I wonder——”
“You accept,” Felix asked quietly.
Mr. Sabin shook his head.
“No, I decline.”
It was a shock to Felix, but he hid his disappointment.
“Absolutely?”
“And finally.”