"What were you doing?" he asked.
"It would be shorter," I said, "to tell you what I wasn't. I've been a ranchman, a cattle-dealer, a store-keeper, a soldier, a prospector, and several other little things that happened to roll up. South America is a great place for teaching one to take a spacious view of the day's work."
"So I believe," he said. "And what brings you to England?"
"An incorrect idea of British enterprise," I answered. "My last achievement in South America was to strike gold—quite a lot of it, unless I'm pretty badly mistaken. I came over here to try and raise some capital."
"And you've failed?"
I laughed. "The British capitalist," I said, "is still as rich as he was when I landed."
He nodded his head. "What are your plans now?" he asked.
"I'm sailing for New York as soon as I can get a ship," I answered.
"Have you many friends in London?" he demanded.
"There's my landlady," I said. "She is friendly enough as long as I pay her bill, but that's about the full extent of my social circle."