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"If you expect me to be surprised," said her brother Solomon, "I

am not surprised; I knew you were here; I know of most people who

are here. If you really don't want to endanger my

existence--which I half believe you do--go your ways as soon as

possible, and let me go mine. I am busy. I am an official."

"My English brother Solomon," mourned Miss Pross, casting up her

tear-fraught eyes, "that had the makings in him of one of the

best and greatest of men in his native country, an official among

foreigners, and such foreigners! I would almost sooner have seen

the dear boy lying in his--"

"I said so!" cried her brother, interrupting. "I knew it. You

want to be the death of me. I shall be rendered Suspected, by my

own sister. Just as I am getting on!"