sentimentality."

"Good," Henshaw responded with what seemed a half-smothered yawn. "Regret
for a thing that is gone past recall does not pay; though as long as
there is a chance of getting it I believe in never calling oneself
beaten. Here we are at the _Lion_."




CHAPTER II

THE STAINED FLOWERS


"What do you think of our acquaintance?" Gifford said as they settled
down in the private room of Kelson, who made the _Golden Lion_ his
hunting quarters.

"Not much. In fact, I took a particular dislike to the fellow. Wrong type
of sportsman, eh?"

"Decidedly. Fine figure of a man and good-looking enough, but spoilt by
that objectionable, cock-sure manner."

"And I should say a by no means decent character."

"A swanker to the finger-tips. And that implies a liar."

"Not worth discussing," Kelson said. "He goes to-morrow. I made a point