He was caressing an idea. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. ” “Nor I.
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