“Stay here!” said Crispin in some surprise. “My dear Roylands, is not this a very sudden friendship?”
“It is not a friendship at all.”
“Well, when a man asks another to his house to stay—to be introduced to his relatives—it is uncommonly like friendship.”
“I am not so conventional as most Englishmen,” said Maurice impatiently, “and therefore do not act by rule. I daresay I should have made inquiries about the past of this Greek before asking him to my house; but, as far as that goes, you are a riddle yourself.”
Crispin’s sallow cheek flushed at this home thrust, but he had great self-command, and replied quietly enough,—
“That is rather a hard thing to say of me. I thought you were my friend.”
“Pardon me, old fellow,” said Roylands penitently. “I did not mean to be so rude. I have an abominable temper, and should be kicked for saying such a thing in my own house.”
“I will let you off the kicking,” replied Crispin, recovering his good-humor. “As you very truly say, I am a riddle; but I will explain myself soon. Still, this Count Caliphronas”—
“Do you know the name?”
“I have a faint idea I have heard it before.”