"'That's the Valpocelli of '71. You needn't worry about helping yourself; I've got a dozen bottles more.'
"I thought the game had gone far enough now, and I squared myself and faced him.
"'See here, Mr. Diffendorfer,' I said, 'before I take your wine I've got some questions to ask you. I'm going to ask them pretty straight, too, and I want you to answer them exactly in the same way. You have followed me round now for two weeks. You invite me to dinner—a man you have never seen before—and when I come you sit like a bump on a log, and half the time I can't get a word out of you. You spend your money on me like water—none of which I can return, and you know it—and when I tell you I don't like that sort of thing you double the expense. Now, what does it all mean? Who are you, anyway, and where do you come from? If you're all right there's my hand, and you'll find it wide open.'
"He dropped into his chair, put his head into his hands for a moment, and said, in a greatly altered tone:
"'If I told you, you wouldn't understand.'
"'Yes, I would.'
"'No, you wouldn't—you couldn't. You've had everything you wanted all your life—I haven't had anything.'
"'Me!—what rot! You've got a chair under you now that will sell for more money than I see in a year.'
"'Yes—and nobody to sit in it; not a man who knows me or wants to know me.'
"'But why did you pick me out?'