You are beginning to get straight in your new quarters."
Agapoulos extended the prosperous cigarette-case, and Major
Grantham took and lighted a superior cigarette.
"How many in the party?" inquired the Greek smilingly.
"Three and myself."
A shadow of a frown appeared upon the face of Agapoulos.
"Only three," he muttered.
Major Grantham laughed.
"You should know me by this time, Agapoulos," he said. "The
party is small but exclusive, you understand?"
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.
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