. “Yeah, where the hell were you? My friends would have driven you home when I came home if I could have found you. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. “I thought you weren’t keeping up to the mark. Let us pass, Sir. I am certainly no ghost.
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