“Oh, I have heard you tell it many times,” said Ran.
“Yes; but Mr. Legg hasn’t.”
“Oh, I have done better than that. I have been through it. Why, man, I was the very Enokoff who helped Wallingski to make good his flight across the frontier. Only my real name was not Enokoff, but Legginoff, or Legenough, if you like it better,” said the greengrocer as he followed Ran from the drawing-room.
Will Walling started, but could make nothing of the answer; yet to his circle of listeners he said in explanation:
“Too bad of Hay to have anticipated me and told that old fellow the end of the story while they were pretending to listen.”
Meanwhile Ran had led his companion to the library, where both sat down on a leathern armchair, on opposite sides of a narrow table, on which they leaned their arms, facing each other.
“Now, then, sir, I am at your service,” said Legg.
“Do you smoke?” inquired Ran.
“Only occasionally; when I need a sedative and philosophy.”
“Exactly. I smoke semi-occasionally for the same reasons. Will you take an exceptionally fine cigar now? It is an Isabella Regina.”