Alpha Book

Selwyn sauntered over to the basket, inspected a yard or two of tape,
then strolled toward the window, nodding to Bradley Harmon and Sandon
Craig.
As he turned his face to the window and his back to the room, Harmon
came up rather effusively, offering an unusually thin flat hand and
further hospitality, pleasantly declined by Selwyn.
"Horrible thing, a cocktail," observed Harmon, after giving his own
order and seating himself opposite Selwyn. "I don't usually do it. Here
comes the man who persuades me!--my own partner--"
Selwyn looked up to see Fane approaching; and instantly a dark flush
overspread his face.
"You know George Fane, don't you?" continued Harmon easily; "well,
that's odd; I thought, of course--Captain Selwyn, Mr. Fane. It's not
usual--but it's done."
They exchanged formalities--dry and brief on Selwyn's part, gracefully
urbane on Fane's.
"I've heard so pleasantly of you from Gerald Erroll," he said, "and of
course our people have always been on cordial terms.


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