The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. Don’t you think? Tum, tay, tum, tay. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. I am carrying back a hundred new books and forty new records for the piano-player. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. “Katy Pfister. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t.
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