The story of a man to whom life was literally "a dream and a forgetting." Through an accident and robbery he forgets his past and even his name, and the only clue he has to his lost identity is a rusty key left upon his person. With this sole link he strives to unlock the door of yesterday, and his adventures, without guiding star or compass, make the story, into which is woven a love affair, a case of mistaken identity, and a South American revolution.
mewhat notorious self-appraisement, his manner at least remained imperturbably complacent.
"I was not clamoring for my own just dues," he explained, with modesty. "For myself, I shall be satisfied with an unostentatious tablet in bronze when I'm no longer with you in the flesh. In this instance I was speaking for another."
He did not hasten to announce the name of the other. In even the little things of life, this gentleman calculated to a nicety dramatic values and effects. Just as a public speaker in nominating a candidate works up to a climax of eulogy, and pauses to let his hearers shout, "Name him! Name your man!" so Mr. Bellton paused, waiting for someone to ask of whom he spoke.
It was little Miss Buford who did so with the débutante's legitimate interest in the possibility of fresh conquest.
"And who has returned in triumph?"
Sarah Preston arched her brows in mild interest.
"So, the wanderer is home! I had the idea he was paintin