Floyd-Rosney turned his imperious gaze on Ducie with a most unperceiving effect. “Why, of course, I know it is Mr. Ducie,--have you taken leave of your senses, Paula? Mr. Ducie and I have seen enough of each other on this trip to last us the rest of our natural existence. I can’t talk to you now, Mr. Ducie,--if you have anything to say to me you can communicate it to my lawyers; I will give you their address.” “It is not business. It is an introduction,” explained Paula, in the extremity of confusion, while Randal, placid and impassive, looked on inscrutably. “Mr. Ducie wishes to make your acquaintance.” “Well, he has got it,--if that is any boon,” Floyd-Rosney stared at her, stupefied. “But this is the brother,--Mr. Randal Ducie,--the one you have never met.” In Paula’s haste to elude her husband’s impatient interruption she could scarcely speak. Her mouth was full of words, but they tripped and fell over each other in her agitation with slips and grotesque mispronunciations. “Hoh!” said Floyd-Rosney, permitting himself to be enlightened at last. “Why this thing of twin brothers is no end of a farce.” He shook hands with Randal with some show of conventionality. He, too, was mindful of the past. But so impatient was his temperament with aught that did not suit his play that he was disposed to cavil on the probabilities. “Are you sure,”--then he paused. “That I am myself,--reasonably sure,” said Randal, laughing. And now that Adrian was coming in at the door Floyd-Rosney surveyed them both as they stood together with a sort of disaffected but covert arrogance. “Well--I can see no sort of difference,” he declared. “Oh, the difference is very obvious,” said Paula, struggling to assert her individuality. “I should thank no man for taking the liberty of looking so much like me,” said Floyd-Rosney, seeking to compass a casual remark. Indeed, but for the pressure of old associations, the necessity of taking into consideration the impression made upon the by-standers, all conversant, doubtless, with the former relations of the parties, for several passersby had paused, attracted by the opportunity for the comparison of the twins side by side, Floyd-Rosney would have dismissed the Messrs. Ducie and their duplicate countenance with a mere word. “I didn’t expect we should keep up the resemblance,” remarked Adrian. “While I was abroad I did not know what Randal was getting to look like, and, therefore, I didn’t know which way to look myself. But now that we are together we each have the advantage of a model.” The broker seemed to gravely ponder this strange statement, the others laughed, and Paula saw her opportunity to terminate the _contretemps_. “I’ll call the baby in,” she said, and slipped deftly past and out into the sunshine.