He spoke wearily, as a tired man speaks of distasteful work which
he must do. There was contempt in his voice; contempt of
Agapoulos, and contempt of himself.

"Ah!" cried the Greek, brightening; "do I know any of them?"

"Probably. General Sir Francis Payne, Mr. Eddie, and Sir Horace
Tipton."

"An Anglo-American party, eh?"

"Quite. Mr. Eddie is the proprietor of the well-known group of
American hotels justly celebrated for their great height and
poisonous cuisine; while Sir Horace Tipton alike as sportsman,
globe-trotter, and soap manufacturer, is characteristically
British. Of General Sir Francis Payne I need only say that his
home services during the war did incalculable harm to our
prestige throughout the Empire."

He spoke with all the bitterness of a man who has made a failure
of life. Agapoulos was quite restored to good humour.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, brushing his moustache and rattling his keys;
"sportsmen, eh?"

Major Grantham dropped into the carven chair upon which the Greek
had draped the leopard skin. Momentarily the window-dresser
leapt into life as Agapoulos beheld one of his cunning effects
destroyed, but he forced a smile when Grantham, shrugging his