THE TOUCHSTONE
office, and as he was preparing to leave he heard some one asking for him in the outer room. He seated himself again and Flamel was shown in.
The two men, as Glennard pushed aside an obstructive chair, had a moment to measure each other; then Flamel advanced, and drawing out his note-case, laid a slip of paper on the desk.
"My dear fellow, what on earth does this mean?"
Glennard recognized his check.
"That I was remiss, simply. It ought to have gone to you before."
Flamel's tone had been that of unaffected surprise, but at this his accent changed and he asked quickly: "On what ground?"
Glennard had moved away from the desk and stood leaning against the calf-backed volumes of the bookcase. "On the ground that you sold Mrs. Aubyn's letters for me, and that I find the intermediary in such cases is entitled to a percentage on the sale."
Flamel paused before answering. "You find, you say. It's a recent discovery?"
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