The intruder differed but little in his manner of approach from other
strangers I had seen hovering about my friend, but to make sure of his
identity--the painter had not yet noticed the man--I sent Marny a
Marconi message of inquiry with my eyebrows, which he answered in the
negative with his shoulders.
The stranger must have read its meaning, for he rose quickly, and, with
an embarrassed look on his face, left the room.
"Wanted a quarter, perhaps," I suggested, laughing.
"No, guess not. He's just a Diffendorfer. Always some of them round
Sunday mornings. That's a new one, never saw him before. In town over
night, perhaps."
"What's a Diffendorfer?"
"Did you never meet one?"
"No, never heard of one."
"Oh, yes, you have; you've seen lots of them."
"Do they belong to any sect?"
"No."
"What are they, then?"
"Just Diffendorfers. Thought I'd told you about one whom I knew. No?
Wait till I light my cigar; it's a long story."
"Anything to do with the fellow who's just gone out?"
"Not a thing, though I'm sure he's one of them.
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