foolish—greedy. I risked the substance for the shadow.”

 

“I comprehend,” said Mr. Porrott. “You speculated?”

 

I nodded mournfully, but in spite of myself I felt secretly entertained. This

ridiculous little man was so portentously solemn.

 

“Not the Porcupine Oilfields?” he asked suddenly.

 

I stared.

 

“I thought of them, as a matter of fact, but in the end I plumped for a gold

mine in Western Australia.”

 

My neighbor was regarding me with a strange expression which I could not fathom.

 

“It is Fate,” he said at last.

 

“What is Fate?” I asked irritably.

 

“That I should live next to a man who seriously considers Porcupine Oilfields,

and also West Australian Gold Mines. Tell me, have you also a penchant for

auburn hair?”

 

I stared at him open-mouthed, and he burst out laughing.