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 "Not in the slightest. I haven't any acquaintance with him. I've never even met him. He followed me out of the dining salon."

Mme. Momoro's expression was not always so impassive as when she played bridge, he discovered. She looked at him for a moment with a scrutinizing intensity that made him almost uncomfortable; then her gaze relaxed and she smiled faintly. "He is very amusing," she said. "He is a type I did not see in New York or Philadelphia or Boston, which were the three cities I have visited in your country. I did not go to Washington; but I have been told I might find your typical American there—somesing like Mr. Tinker perhaps. You agree?"

"Believe me," Ogle entreated her earnestly, "he isn't typical."

"No, I suppose not. You have so many, many people; but there could not be a great number of this kind. I should speak of him as typical only of your ruling class, perhaps."

"Our 'ruling class'?"

"I get my ideas from my son," she confessed. "He is a student of peoples. But I agree with him that all nations are governed now by the gentlemen of commerce. I am afraid you must submit to being