However, after one swift glance at him, Grim took no notice until the
train was under way--not even then in fact, until the man in blue serge
spoke first.

"Oh, Jimgrim!" he said suddenly in a voice like a tenor bell.

"Come in, Hadad," Grim answered, hardly glancing at him. "Make yourself
at home."

He tossed a valise into the rack, and I gave up the corner seat so that
he might sit facing Grim, he acknowledging the courtesy with a smile
like the whicker of a sword-blade, wasting no time on foolish protest.
He knew what he wanted--knew enough to take it when invited--understood
me, and expected me to understand him--a first-class fellow. He sat
leaning a little forward, his back not touching the cushion, with the
palms of both hands resting on his knees and strong fingers motionless.
He eyed Mabel Ticknor, not exactly nervously but with caution.

"Any news?" asked Grim.

"Jimgrim, the world is full of it!" he answered in English with a laugh.
"But who are these?"

"My friends."

"Your intimate friends?" Grim nodded.

"The lady as well?" Grim nodded again.

"That is very strong recommendation, Jimgrim!"