Part 9 (2/2)
”I was a beggar outside San Marco”
”Were you? How odd! I was an Englishive in the ward touch me with some curious emotion I think it is because I am for once at rest in the ward and have time to think and wonder
There is Captain Tho He doesn't knohat to do with his hands; they swing He is tall and dark, with soft eyes--and staff badges
Could one guess what he is? Never in a dozen years But I _know_!
He said toout to-morrow”
I leant across the table to listen to him
”Nurse, if you ever want any _crepe de Chine_for nightgowns
ht some at a sale”
”May I ask at what price?”
”Four-and-eleven a yard”
”Pity! You could have had it froave me his business card ”That's it, nurse,” he said, as he wrote on the back of it ”Drop et any material for underwear at trade prices”
He booked one or two orders the night he went away--not laughingly, not as a joke, but with deep seriousness, and gravely pleased that he was able to do what he could for us He was a traveller in ladies'
underwear I have seldoing
One hand on the piano, one on his hip:
”I love every mouse in that old-fashi+oned house”
”That fellow can sing!” whispers the man beside , the singer made the faintest of bows and walked back to his chair
”I think he must be”
”He is, he is!” whispered Mr Matthews, ”I've heard him before”