“Don’t be foolish, Dick. It’s unbecoming an officer and a gentleman. But if you should see Mr. Singleton again—”
“Yes—not if I see him first!” ejaculated Claiborne.
“Well, you might ask him who Mr. Armitage is. It would be amusing—and satisfying—to know.”
Later in the day the old attaché fell upon Claiborne in the smoking-room and stopped to discuss a report that a change was impending in the American State Department. Changes at Washington did not trouble Singleton, who was sure of his tenure. He said as much; and after some further talk, Claiborne remarked:
“Your friend Armitage seems a good sort.”
“Oh, yes; a capital talker, and thoroughly well posted in affairs.”
“Yes, he seemed interesting. Do you happen to know where he lives—when he’s at home?”
“Lord bless you, boy, I don’t know anything about Armitage!” spluttered Singleton, with the emphasis so thrown as to imply that of course in any other branch of human knowledge he would be found abundantly qualified to answer questions.
“But you introduced us to him—my sister and me. I assumed—”
“My dear Claiborne, I’m always introducing people! It’s my business to introduce people. Armitage is all right. He’s always around everywhere. I’ve dined with him in Paris, and I’ve rarely seen a man order a better dinner.”