He calmed down when he saw her. “I’ve just been taken for a professional gambler,” he cried.
“I thought all stock-brokers were that,” she said smiling.
“I mean a different sort,” he explained, “the kind that work the big liners. I just asked him to have a drink when he said he didn’t drink with strangers and hinted I had my picture in the rogues’ gallery.”
“Who was it?” she inquired.
“That ne’er-do-well, Monty Vaughan,” he answered.
“Monty?” she said. “Impossible!”
“Is it?” he said grimly. “We’ll see. Here comes the young gentleman.”
Monty sauntered up without noticing him at first. When he did, he stopped short and was in no whit abashed. “Trying a new game?” he inquired.
“Monty, don’t you remember Mr. Hazen?” Alice said reproachfully.
“Have I made an ass of myself?” he asked miserably.