"It is much money," observed Oscar, counting the bills laboriously.

"It will be enough for your purposes. You can't spend much money up there
if you try. Bacon--perhaps eggs; a cow may be necessary,--who can tell
without trying it? Don't write me any letters or telegrams, and forget
that you have seen me if you don't hear from me again."

He went to the elevator and rode down to the office with Oscar and
dismissed him carelessly. Then John Armitage bought an armful of
magazines and newspapers and returned to his room, quite like any
traveler taking the comforts of his inn.




CHAPTER XI

THE TOSS OF A NAPKIN

As music and splendor
Survive not the lamp and the lute,
The heart's echoes render
No song when the spirit is mute--
No songs but sad dirges,
Like the wind through a ruined cell,
Or the mournful surges
That ring the dead seaman's knell.
--Shelley.