Joan stood up, a hand at her throat. "What do you think," she said in a stifled voice, "it seems to us who are not wandering folk?..." In three questions Stefan Nikolai had discovered about the Blair household all and more than he wanted to know. CHAPTER XLVII At that moment there was the sound of a latch-key in the door and Archie came in; a weary, cheerful Archie, not quite so dapper as of old, but rather the better for that, perhaps. "Hello, darlingest!--'Late as usual.' There--I said it first! Things do sort of pile up on a person. Why, look who's here? Wait! I know you--" he extended an eager hand of welcome to the man who rose to greet him. "I'll bet my hat it's Joan's pal, the author. Guessed you, didn't I? Only you said he was an old chap, Joan!--Well, well, well! Welcome to our city. I thought you were projickin' round, as the darkies say, in Mesopotamia or Timbuctoo or some such spot. Gee, it's been good as a geography lesson just to read the postmarks on your letters, sir! You've come to stay with us, of course? Hotel--nonsense!" The two shook hands warmly. Despite the breeziness of her husband's manner, Joan detected in it a respect which pleased her. This was no mere family friend Archie was welcoming to his city; it was Mr. Nikolai, the Author. She loved his little boyish bursts of hero-worship. "Look at my beautiful present," she said, slipping her hand through his arm and exhibiting her necklace. "You've got a present, too. It's like Christmas!" Archie was pleased as a child with his gift, a lacquer box surmounted by an ivory monkey which, when a handle was turned, reached down into a box and lifted out a cigarette. "Ain't they a wonderful little people, though, the Japanese?" he demanded originally. "Who but them would have thought of such a trick?" "'They!' dear," murmured Joan. "'They,' then," he repeated, unabashed. "Can't be grammatical till I've had my supper. I'm dead beat." It was not the first time of late that Archie had come home "dead beat," though he did not often admit it. The treasurer of his company was ill, and Archie, upon whom Mr. Moore was growing to depend for many things, had volunteered to undertake the treasurer's work in addition to his own. But he had not the same gift for finance as for salesmanship, and took little joy in his new honors; except for the additional increase in his salary. Joan, to whom money meant nothing so long as she could pay her bills promptly, was rather troubled by the growing mercenariness of her husband. He seemed to be always thinking in terms of dollars and cents. But Archie lost his unwonted air of fatigue during dinner in his interest in the tale of Mr. Nikolai's travels. Nikolai had the writer's gift of accumulating odd experiences, so that even Ellen lingered unduly about the table. Archie was enthralled.