“It’s nothing-, Brendt, just a little dizzy streak, that’s
all. Didn’t see you coming - .”
“Evidently! But come with me to the club and you’ll
be all rig-ht in a jiffy. ”
Few people understood Dick Harding - . To the casual
observer he was nothing - more than a well dressed “city
chap” belonging - perhaps to the upper circles. Only one or
two of his closest friends knew of the hours spent in study
and writing - , and he often asked himself the old query—
whether after all, it was of auy use; whether success for him
was not a fleeing phantom?
Although rather reserved, when aroused Dick was cap
able of intense anger; while few things escaped his notice
yet he appeared very nonchalant. Always fastidiously
dressed, and of athletic proportions, he was a man to atract
attention.
Two men could be observed strolling down the street
earnestly engaged in conversation.
“Have you noticed anything wrong with Harding of
late, DeVere?”
“Can’t say that I have: seems to be as ‘icy’ as ever.”
“Well, perhaps so, but last night, as I was hurrying
home, not taking particular notice of my surroundings,
Harding and I collided, full steam on. 1-Ie acted qufeer and
started on but I stopped him, and it was only then he recog
nized me. To my notion the usual ‘woman in the case’ is at
the bottom of it all.”
“Perhaps you' are right. They say it does have some
such effect. But to change the subject, are you going - to the
‘spread’ to-night?”
“I suppose 1 shall attend, but those literary feasts be
come rather monotonous after a time. Now, had I written
a book or so, I suppose I should feel perfectly at home.”