"This is Doctor Diver, isn't it?"
"Well, well--Mr. Dumphry, isn't it?"
"Royal Dumphry. I had the pleasure of having dinner one night in that lovely garden of yours."
"Of course." Trying to dampen Mr. Dumphry's enthusiasm, Dick went into impersonal chronology. "It was in nineteen--twenty-four--or twenty-five--"
He had remained standing, but Royal Dumphry, shy as he had seemed at first, was no laggard with his pick and spade; he spoke to Francisco in a flip, intimate manner, but the latter, ashamed of him, joined Dick in trying to freeze him away.