rich, many of them, women, once rich, were being driven even to stand
behind counters. Yet no such plight could he imagine of that
bewildering young--young luminary who, this second time, so out of
time, had gleamed on him from mystery's cloud. His earlier hope came a
third time: "Excepting only your wife, you say? Why not also your
amateur expert?"

"I am sorry, but"--the Latin shrug--"that is--that is not possible."

"Have I ever seen your wife? She's not a tallish, slender young-----?"

"No, my wife is neither. She's never in the street or shop. She has
no longer the cap-acity. She's become so extraordinarily _un_-slender
that the only way she can come down-stair' is backward. You'll see.
Well,"--he waved--"till then--ah, a word: my close bargaining--I must
explain you that--in confidence. 'Tis because my wife and me we are
anxious to get every picayune we can get for the owners--of that
manuscript."

Chester thought to be shrewd: "Oh! is _she_ hard up? the owner?"

"The owners are three," Castanado calmly said, "and two dip-end on the
earnings of a third." He bowed himself away.

A few hours later Chester received from him a note begging indefinite
postponement of the evening appointment. Mme. Castanado had fever and
probably _la grippe_.