un. I must show him to you,
Madonna. You would love him as I love you. And I also have an angora,
my beautiful Santa Bianca. And you, gentlemen"--he turned to Dale and
myself and addressed us in his peculiar jargon of French, German,
and Italian--"you must come and see my cats if I can get a London
engagement. At present I must rest. The artist needs repose sometimes.
I will sun myself in the smiles of our dear lady here, and my pupil and
assistant, Quast, can look after my cats. Meanwhile the brain of the
artist," he tapped his brow, "needs to lie fallow so that he can invent
fresh and daring combinations. Do such things interest you, messieurs?"

"Vastly," said I.

He pulled out of his breast pocket an enormous gilt-bound pocket-book,
bearing a gilt monogram of such size that it looked like a cartouche
on an architectural panel, and selected therefrom three cards which he
gravely distributed among us. They bore the legend:

PROFESSOR ANASTASIUS PAPADOPOULOS

GOLD AND SILVER MEDALLIST

THE CAT KING

LE ROI DES CHATS

DER KATZEN KONIG

London Agents: MESSRS. CONTO & BLAG,

172 Maiden Lane, W.C.

"There," said he, "I am always to be found, should you ever require my
services. I have a masterpiece in my head. I come on to the scene like
Bacchus drawn by my two cats. How are the cats to draw my heavy weight?
I'll have a noiseless clockwork arrangement that will really propel the
car. You must come and see it."

"Delighted, I'm sure," said Dale, who stood looking down on the
Liliputian egotist with polite wonder. Lola Brandt glanced at him
apologetically.

"You mustn't mind him, Dale. He has only two ideas in his head, his cats
and myself. He's devoted to me."

"I don't think I shall be jealous," said Dale in a low voice.

"Foolish boy!" she whispered.

During the love scene, which was conducted in English, a language which
Mr. Papadopoulos evidently did not understand, the dwarf scowled at Dale
and twirled his moustache fiercely. In order to attract Madame Brandt's
attention he fetched a packet of papers from his pocket and laid them
with a flourish on the tea-table.

"Here are the documents," said he.

"What documents?"

"A full inquiry into the circumstances attending the death of Madame
Brandt's horse Sultan."

"Have you found out anything, Anastasius?" she asked, in the indulgent
tone in which one addresses an eager child.

"Not exactly," said he. "But I have a conviction that by this me