stood side by side before her. Any one to have seen the two would have selected the Bostonian, with his height and width, dark beard and small, wise eyes, as the great traveller linguist, and master of men. In comparison Jones looked boyish and shy. He was only an inch or two taller than Lanice and as slender as the Arabs whom he had led. The set of his shoulders, however, suggested army training. His mouth drooped slightly and was too short for the blunt, broad cast of his features. In comparison to the expressive eyes, mournful and intelligent as a hound's, the mouth seemed inarticulate. Before Sears Ripley had begun the introduction, she put her hand out timidly towards him. 'Captain Jones,' she said, and flushed when she felt his hard hand, small for a man, close over hers. Sears Ripley murmured a belated introduction and suddenly hated to see Jones's hand upon the girl's. The Englishman hesitated before he spoke, almost as though he once had had an impediment in his speech to laboriously overcome, then said:
'You are the young lady who is going to write things up...' he paused—'for a female magazine. Ripley thinks you may even...invent an "Anthony Jones antimacassar" for your readers to knit. I am delighted.'
Professor Ripley laughed and looked at his inexplicable friend with proprietorial eyes, and then glanced at Lanice as if to say, 'Isn't this a fine fellow, if one does not take him too seriously?'
'We've only five minutes now,' he said, 'before we
