"I do not say that, but business is business, and I always like to have things in order."
"Here is Mr. Wharton," said the son-in-law.
The person who entered was a man of herculean stature. His thick head was covered with bushy red hair.
Clary looked curiously at the giant.
"Are you an Englishman, Mr. Wharton?" she asked.
"No, an American from Baltimore, miss, and your humble servant."
"Mademoiselle," interrupted Mortimer, "will you please explain to Mr. Wharton the nature of the business?"
"Willingly. Will you take a seat, please?"
"Thank you," replied the Yankee, "I prefer to stand."
"Mr. Wharton, you have a ship at anchor at Marseilles?"