"Others may not think so," I retorted, a little exasperated by his manner. "It surely will be sufficiently exciting to read of how we were buried with Desiree Le Mire under the Andes, and our encounters with the Incas, and our final escape, and—"
"Desiree what?" Harry interrupted.
"Desiree Le Mire," I replied very distinctly. "The great French dancer."
"Never heard of her," said Harry, looking at me as if he doubted my sanity.
"Never heard of Desiree, the woman you loved?" I almost shouted at him.
"The woman I—piffle! I say I never heard of her."
I gazed at him, trembling with high indignation. "I suppose," I observed with infinite sarcasm, "that you will tell me next that you have never been in Peru?"
"Guilty," said Harry. "I never have."
"And that you never climbed Pike's Peak to see the sunrise?"
"Rahway, New Jersey, is my farthest west."