His visitor flushed. "Sorry if I have annoyed you," he said; "but it did not seem such a great favour to ask. Most people are glad to have pictures of themselves and their houses in the papers."
"Most people are fools, as Dommas Carlyle said. Have you a family?"
"I am not married."
"Dere is no excuse for a sinkle man taking pictures of people's interiors. It is not de work for a man like you. I shall not encourage such tomfoolery. No, I do not give you bermission. But stay. Dere is an orkit from de mittle of Africa of which I should like to have a picture—de Cypripedium Meyeri—a new species which I have had de satisfaction to detect. Berhaps you would be kind enough to photokraph it for me, and your journey would not be altokedder lost. Come along. What is your name, please?"
His visitor handed him a card on which was printed "John Lucas, 140, Brixton Gardens, London, W."
"You have come a long way," Mr. Meyer observed.
"A very long way, sir. Perhaps you wouldn't mind letting me look round your house, even if I may not photograph it. I am interested in domestic architecture and—er—curios."
Mr. Meyer looked intently at his visitor.
"Yes, Mr. Lucas," he said slowly, "I will also show you round my house, since you have come so far, and are interested in domestic architecture and curios. I have blenty of both. Den we will photokraph de orkit."