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name. For a moment he failed to recognize Burton. There was very little likeness between the pale, contemptuous young man with the dreamy eyes, who had sat opposite to him at the professor's dinner table a few nights ago, and this flushed young man who had just attracted his attention, and who had evidently been lunching exceedingly well. It was part of his business, however, to remember faces, and his natural aptitude came to his assistance. "How do you do, Mr. Burton?" he said. "Glad to meet you again. Spending some of the Menatogen profits, eh?" "Friend of mine here--Mr. Waddington," Burton explained. "Mr. Cowper knows all about him. He owns the rest of the beans, you know." Mr. Bunsome was at once interested. "I'm delighted to meet you, Mr. Waddington!" he declared, holding out his hand. "Indirectly, you are connected with one of the most marvelous discoveries of modern days." "I should like to make it 'directly,'" Mr. Waddington said. "Do you think my three beans would get me in on the ground floor?" Mr. Bunsome was a little surprised. "I understood from the professor," he remarked, "that your friend was not likely to care about entering into this?" Burton, for a moment, half closed his eyes. "I remember," he said. "Last night I didn't think he would care about it. I find I was mistaken." Mr. Bunsome looked at his watch. "I am meeting Mr. Cowper this afternoon," he said, "and Mr. Bomford. I know that the greatest difficulty that we have to face at present is the very minute specimens of this wonderful--er--vegetable, from which we have to prepare the food. I should think it very likely that we might be able to offer you an interest in return for your beans. Will you call at my office, Mr. Waddington, at ten o'clock to-morrow morning--number 17, Norfolk Street?" "With pleasure," Mr. Waddington assented. "Have a drink?" Mr. Bunsome did not hesitate--it was not his custom to refuse any offer of the sort! He sat down at their table and ordered a sherry and bitters. Mr. Waddington seemed to have expanded. He did not mention the subject of architecture. More than once Mr. Bunsome glanced with some surprise at Burton. The young man completely puzzled him. They talked about Menatogen and its possibilities, and Burton kept harking back to the subject of profits. Mr. Bunsome at last could contain his curiosity no longer. "Say," he remarked, "you had a headache or something the other night, I
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