"Well, Tommy," he said, "I wish you and yours every joy in life, old chap, and tons of money, and may you never die till I shoot you. And that's the wish of a sincere friend, an old friend. You know that?"
"I know that," said Little Chandler.
"Any youngsters?" said Ignatius Gallaher.
Little Chandler blushed again.
"We have one child," he said.
"Son or daughter?"
"A little boy."
Ignatius Gallaher slapped his friend sonorously on the back.
"Bravo," he said, "I wouldn't doubt you, Tommy."
Little Chandler smiled, looked confusedly at his glass and bit his lower lip with three childishly white front teeth.
"I hope you'll spend an evening with us," he said, "before you go back. My wife will be delighted to meet you. We can have a little music and ———"
"Thanks awfully, old chap," said Ignatius Gallaher, "I'm sorry we didn't meet earlier. But I must leave to-morrow night."
"To-night, perhaps. . .?"
"I'm awfully sorry, old man. You see I'm over here with another fellow, clever young chap he is too, and we arranged to go to a little card-party. Only for that . . ."
"O, in that case. . . ."
"But who knows?" said Ignatius Gallaher con-
