"No? That's a gift."
"And I have never forgotten yours. I was in doubt at first, but not now."
"I never met you till that night at the hotel."
"That's true. But you are Horace Wadsworth, all the same, the son of the millionaire-banker, the man I used to admire in the field."
"You still think I'm that chap?"
"I am sure of it. The first morning you gave yourself away."
"What did I say?" anxiously.
"You mumbled foot-ball phrases."
"Ah!" Ryanne was vastly relieved. He seemed to be thinking.
"Do you persist in denying it?"