In the cab, later on, Lord Bob was startled from a bit of doze by
hearing his thoughtful, abstracted companion exclaim:

"By thunder!"

"What's up? Forgot your hat, or left something at the club?" he
demanded, sleepily.

"No; I remember something, that's all. Bob, I know where I've seen
that Italian prince. He was in Rio Janeiro with a big Italian opera
company just before I left there for New York."

"What! But he said he'd never been in America," exclaimed Saxondale,
wide awake.

"Well, he lied, that's all. I am positive he's the man, and the best
proof in the world is the certainty that he remembers me. Of course
he denies it, but you know what he said when I first asked him if we
had met. He was the tenor in Pagani's opera company, and he sang in
several of the big South American cities. They were in Rio Janeiro
for weeks, and we lived in the same hotel. There's no mistake about
it, old man. This howling swell of to-day was Pagani's tenor, and he
was a good one, too. Gad, what a Romeo he was! Imagine him in the
part, Bob. Lord, how the women raved about him!"

"I say, Phil, don't be ass enough to tell anybody else about this,
even if you're cocksure he's the man. He was doubtless driven to the
stage for financial reasons, you know, and it wouldn't be quite
right to bring it up now if he has a desire to suppress the truth.
Since he has come into the title and estates it might be deuced