De Vere laughed as he said, "Genung, I value your friendship more than that of any man living; but I really think you misjudge Mills."
Hernando was in the sitting-room with Celeste. She played the guitar charmingly and her voice was a clear, sweet soprano. One song followed another and Hernando felt as if vouchsafed a glimpse of Eden. Suddenly recalling himself, he said: "Pardon my selfishness, you must be tired."
"Not a bit," she replied gaily. "Are you fond of the guitar?"
"Very, and your singing is a rare treat," he replied sincerely. "My life has been spent largely in mining camps, and the music in such places is not, to say the least, classical."
"Have you always lived in Nevada?"
"Nevada and California."
"That includes San Francisco and Chinatown of course?"
"Of course, but usually 'California' means Southern California; the land of flowers, fruits and perpetual sunshine."
