Voices sounded outside. Men were standing before the tent.
Then the flaps parted, and he beheld the spectacled, pleasantly smiling face of Mr. Po.
“Oh,” he said, more shortly than he knew. “Come in!”
Mr. Po stepped inside, letting the flaps fall together behind him. He made a splendid figure in blue and gold, as he removed the round hat with its red plume and crystal ball and laid it on the rude table.
“I'm glad to see you're still sound of life and limb and fresh as a daisy,” he remarked cheerfully. “With permission I will sit here a bit for informal how-do chin-chin, and forget from minute to minute all ceremonial dam-foolishness.”
CHAPTER XXI—THE SOULS OF MEN
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WELL,” continued Mr. Po expansively, “I've certainly had a pretty kettle of fish about my ears.”