” She looked at him quizzically. ’ ‘Dunderhead. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. Trifle useful?" he added, slipping a few gold pieces into Jack's hand. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. She crept behind the open door and pounced on him when he came out of the bathroom, knocking him onto the floor with a loud thud. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. She had braved all obstacles to pursue her dream. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance.
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