“Poorlittlechap，“saidKatharine，andhertonewasatriflehuskierthanusual。“HowfondpeoplehavealwaysbeenofAdriance！Nowtellmethelatestnewsofhim。Ihaven’theard，exceptthroughthepress，forayearormore。HewasinAlgeriathen，inthevalleyoftheChelif，ridinghorsebacknightanddayinanArabiancostume，andinhisusualenthusiasticfashionhehadquitemadeuphismindtoadopttheMohammedanfaithandbecomeasnearlyanArabaspossible。Howmanycountriesandfaithshasbeadopted，Iwonder？ProbablyhewasplayingArabtohimselfallthetime。Irememberhewasasixteenth-centurydukeinFlorenceonceforweekstogether。“
“Oh，that’sAdriance，“chuckledEverett。“Heishimselfbarelylongenoughtowritechecksandbemeasuredforhisclothes。Ididn’thearfromhimwhilehewasanArab；Imissedthat。“
“HewaswritinganAlgeriansuiteforthepianothen；itmustbeinthepublisher’shandsbythistime。Ihavebeentooilltoanswerhisletter，andhavelosttouchwithhim。“
Everettdrewaletterfromhispocket。“Thiscameaboutamonthago。It’schieflyabouthisnewopera，whichistobebroughtoutinLondonnextwinter。Readitatyourleisure。“
“IthinkIshallkeepitasahostage，sothatImaybesureyouwillcomeagain。NowIwantyoutoplayforme。Whateveryoulike；butifthereisanythingnewintheworld，inmercyletmehearit。ForninemonthsIhaveheardnothingbut’TheBaggageCoachAhead’and’SheIsMyBaby’sMother。’“