Besides, he is such an
interesting person, very much a man of the world, you know, who has been
everywhere and knows everybody."
Lewis congratulated himself on his luck. "I should like very much to
come to the dance, and I especially want to meet Mr. Marker."
"He is half Scotch, too," said the lady. "His mother was a Kirkpatrick
or some name like that, and he actually seems to talk English with a
kind of Scotch accent. Of course that may be the German part of him.
He is a Pomeranian count or something of the sort, and very rich. You
might get him to go with you into the hills."
"I wish we could," said Lewis falsely. His curiosity was keenly
excited.
"Why does he come up here such a lot?" George asked.
"I suppose because he likes to 'knock about,' as you call it. He is a
tremendous traveller. He has been into Tibet and all over Turkestan and
Persia. Gilbert says that he is the wonder of the age."
"Is he here just now?"
"No, I don't think so. I know he is coming to-morrow, because he wrote
me about it, and promised to come to my dance. But he is a very busy
man, so I don't suppose he will arrive till just before. He wrote me
from Gilgit, so he may find Gilbert there and bring him up with him."
Marker, Marker. The air seemed full of the strange name. Lewis saw
again Wratislaw's wrinkled face when he talked of him, and remembered
his words.
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