and we can probably manage without it. But I guess it's as well to
fix the thing right down."

"If you will give me a piece of paper," Mr. Sabin said, "I will make
you a sketch of the Duchess. The larger the better. I can give you
an idea of the sort of clothes she would probably be wearing."

Mr. Skinner furnished him with a double sheet of paper, and Mr.
Sabin, with set face and unflinching figures, reproduced in a few
simple strokes a wonderful likeness of the woman he loved. He
pushed it away from him when he had finished without remark. Mr.
Skinner was loud in its praises.

"I guess you're an artist, sir, for sure," he remarked. "This'll
fix the thing. Shall I come to your hotel?"

"If you please," Mr. Sabin answered. "I shall be there for the rest
of the day."

Mr. Skinner took up his hat.

"Guess I'll take my dinner and get right to work," he remarked.
"Say, you come along, Mr. Sabin. I'll take you where they'll fix
you such a beefsteak as you never tasted in your life."

"I thank you very much," Mr. Sabin said, "but I must beg to be
excused. I am expecting some despatches at my hotel. If you are
successful this afternoon you will perhaps do me the honour of
dining with me to-night. I will wait until eight-thirty."