"So far as you are concerned, I am. Knowing how easily influenced you are by the sight of a pretty face, I don't think I am far wrong in guessing that your thoughts were with Jenny Paynton."
"Well, yes," replied Claude, with a frank laugh. "I do not deny it. The glimpse I caught of her as we drove past in the cart charmed me greatly. I have rarely seen a more sympathetic and piquant face."
"Bah! You say that of every woman you meet. Your geese are always swans."
"Jenny is, at all events!" said Larcher promptly; "and you cannot deny that; but I admire her exceedingly—that is, as a pretty woman. You see, I already call her Jenny in my own mind, but that is because you always talk of her by her Christian name. Now, Jenny is——"
"My dear Don Juan," said Tait blandly; "don't you think we had better leave off these erotics and get to business. You must not indulge in the ideal to the exclusion of the real."
"Oh, not that business!" sighed Larcher wearily. "I don't believe we'll do any good with it. The mystery of my father's death is likely to remain one to the end of time for all I can see. Every trace is obliterated by the snows of twenty-five years."
"Not entirely, my friend. For instance, I have learned an important fact to-day."
"From Miss Paynton?"
"Yes. We had a long conversation, and she was considerably startled when she learned the object of your visit here."