"They are all very much the same, sir. I can't say I like one better than another."
"Would you like a drink of something or a coffee?"
"Oh, no, sir, it is not permitted to drink in the cafe with the clients."
"You wouldn't take a cigar?"
"Oh, no, sir," she laughed. "I don't smoke, sir."
"Neither do I," said Harris, "I don't agree with David Belasco."
"Please?"
"Belasco. David Belasco. You can always tell him because he has his collar on backwards. But I don't agree with him. Then, too, he's dead now."
"Will you excuse me, sir?" asked the waitress.
"Absolutely," said Harris. He sat forward in the chair and looked out of the window. Across the room the old man had folded his paper. He looked at Mr. Harris and then picked up his coffee cup and saucer and walked to Harris's table.
"I beg your pardon if I intrude," he said in English, "but it has just occurred to me that you might be a member of the National Geographic Society."
"Please sit down," Harris said. The gentleman sat down.
"Won't you have another coffee or a liqueur?"
"Thank you," said the gentleman.
"Won't you have a kirsch with me?"
"Perhaps. But you must have it with me."
"No, I insist." Harris called the waitress. The old gentleman took out from an inside pocket of his coat a leather pocket-book. He took off a wide rubber band and drew out several papers, selected one, and handed it to Harris.
"That is my certificate of membership," he said. "Do you know Frederick J. Roussel in America?"
"I'm afraid I don't."
"I believe he is very prominent."
"Where does he come from? Do you know what part of the States?"
"From Washington, of course. Isn't that the headquarters of the Society?"
"I believe it is."
"You believe it is. Aren't you sure?"
"I've been away a long time," Harris said.
"You're not a member, then?"
"No. But my father is. He's been a member for a great many years."
"Then he would know Frederick J. Roussel. He is one of the officers of the society. You will observe that it is by Mr. Roussel that I was nominated for membership."
"I'm awfully glad."
"I am sorry you are not a member. But you could obtain nomination through your father?"
"I think so," said Harris. "I must when I go back."
"I would advise you to," said the gentleman. "You see the magazine, of course?"
"Absolutely."
"Have you seen the number with the colored plates of the North American fauna?"
"Yes. I have it in Paris."
"And the number containing the panorama of the volcanoes of Alaska?"
"That was a wonder."
"I enjoyed very much, too, the wild animal photographs of George Shiras three."
"They were damned fine."
"I beg your pardon?"
"They were excellent. That fellow Shiras-"
"You call him that fellow?"
"We're old friends," said Harris.
"I see. You know George Shiras three. He must be very interesting."
"He is. He's about the most interesting man I know."
"And do you know George Shiras two? Is he interesting too?"
"Oh, he's not so interesting."
"I should imagine he would be very interesting."
"You know, a funny thing. He's not so interesting. I've often wondered why."
"H'm," said the gentleman. "I should have thought any one in that family would be interesting."
"Do you remember the panorama of the Sahara Desert?" Harris asked.
"The Sahara Desert? That was nearly fifteen years ago."
"That's right. That was one of my father's favorites."
"He doesn't prefer the newer numbers?"
"He probably does. But he was very fond of the Sahara panorama."
"It was excellent. But to me its artistic value far exceeded its scientific interest."
"I don't know," said Harris. "The wind blowing all that sand and that Arab with his camel kneeling toward Mecca."
"As I recall, the Arab was standing holding the camel."
"You're quite right," said Harris. "I was thinking of Colonel Lawrence's book."
"Lawrence's book deals with Arabia, I believe."
"Absolutely," said Harris. "It was the Arab reminded me of it."
"He must be a very interesting young man."
"I believe he is."
"Do you know what he is doing now?"
"He's in the Royal Air Force."
"And why does he do that?"
"He likes it."
"Do you know if he belongs to the National Geographic Society?"
"I wonder if he does."
"He would make a very good member. He is the sort of person they want as a member. I would be very happy to nominate him if you think they would like to have him."
"I think they would."
"I have nominated a scientist from Vevey and a colleague of mine from Lausanne and they were both elected. I believe they would be very pleased if I nominated Colonel Lawrence."
"It's a splendid idea," said Harris. "Do you come here to the cafe often?"
"I come here for coffee after dinner."
"Are you in the University?"
"I am not active any longer."
"I'm just waiting for the train," said Harris. "I'm going up to Paris and sail from Havre for the States."
"I have never been to America. But I would like to go very much. Perhaps I shall attend a meeting of the society some time. I would be very happy to meet your father."
"I'm sure he would have liked to meet you but he died last year. Shot himself, oddly enough."
"I am very truly sorry. I am sure his loss was a blow to science as well as to his family."
"Science took it awfully well."
"This is my card," Harris said. "His initials were E. J. instead of E. D. I know he would have liked to know you."
"It would have been a great pleasure." The gentleman took out a card from the pocketbook and gave it to Harris. It read:
DR. SIGISMUND WYER, PH.D.
Member of the National Geographic.
Society, Washington, D. C., U. S. A.
"I will keep it very carefully," Harris said.
A Day's Wait.
HE CAME INTO THE ROOM TO SHUT THE windows while we were still in bed and I saw he looked ill. He was shivering, his face was white, and he walked slowly as though it ached to move.
"What's the matter, Schatz?"
"I've got a headache."
"You better go back to bed."