A species of vertigo seized him. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat. It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. “You were seen to leave the flat, and your handkerchief was found there. He heard me; but he never came in to ask what was the matter. Wild had a narrow escape lately, in that affair of Captain Darrell," observed Shotbolt.
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