And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. “You have the temperament,” he said. Also she had tried him as a dragoman and as a gendarme, which seemed the most suitable of all to his severely handsome, immobile profile. You deal with her. That was the true marvel of it. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet.
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