He pointed to the hut which they had almost reached.
"That's it!" answered Seaton—"And I prefer it to any palace ever built. No servants, no furniture, no useless lumber—just a place to live in—enough for any man."
"A tub was enough for Diogenes"—commented Gwent—"If we all lived in his way or your way it would be a poor look-out for trade! However, I presume you'll escape taxation here!"
Seaton made no reply, but led the way into his dwelling, offering his visitor a chair.
"I hope you've had breakfast"—he said—"For I haven't any to give you. You can have a glass of milk if you like?"
Gwent made a wry face.
"I'm not a good subject for primitive nourishment"—he said—"I've been weaned too long for it to agree with me!"
He sat down. His eyes were at once attracted by the bowl of restless fluid on the table.
"What's that?" he asked.
Roger Seaton smiled enigmatically.