cent city. Oh, yes, he knew London well; had known
it these twenty years; had been for fifteen years a member of the
Travellers'; he liked everything English, except hunting. English
hunting he had found to be dull work. But he liked shooting for an hour
or two. He could not rival, he said, the intense energy of an
Englishman, who would work all day with his gun harder than ploughmen
with their ploughs. Englishmen sported, he said, as though more than
their bread--as though their honor, their wives, their souls, depended
on it. It was very fine! He often wished that he was an Englishman. Then
he shrugged his shoulders.

Harry was very anxious to commence a conversation about Lady Ongar, but
he did not know how at first to introduce her name. Count Pateroff had
come to him at Lady Ongar's request, and therefore, as he thought, the
count should have been the first to mention her. But the count seemed to
be enjoying his dinner without any thought either of Lady Ongar or of
her late husband. At this time he had been down to Ongar Park, on that
mission which had been, as we know, futile; but he said no word of that
to Harry. He seemed to enjoy his dinner thoroughly, and made himself
very agreeable. When the wine was discussed he told Harry that a certain
vintage of Moselle was very famous at the Beaufort. Harry ordered the
wine of course, and was delighted to give his guest the best of
everything; but he was a little annoyed at finding that the stranger
knew his club better than he knew it himself. Slowly the count ate his
dinner, enjoying every morsel that he took with that thoughtful,
conscious pleasure which young men never attain in eating and drinking,
and which men as they grow older so often forget to acquire. But the
count never forgot any of his own capacities for pleasure, and in all
things made the most of his own resources. To be rich is not to have one
or ten thousand a year, but to be able to get out of that one or ten
thousand all that every pound, and every shilling, and every penny will
give you. After this fashion the count was a rich man.

"You don't sit after dinner here, I suppose," said the count, when he
had completed an elaborate washing of his mouth and moustache. "I like
this club because we who are strangers have so charming a room for our
smoking. It is the best club in London for men who do not belong to it."

It occurred to Harry that in the smoking-room there could be no privacy.
Three or fou