"But"-- he gripped the young man's knee in his bony clasp--"you're just the same Paul, sonny, God bless yer--and you'll come out straight all right.

Here we are." The car drew up before Silas Finn's house.

They entered.

Jane, summoned, came down at once and met them in the dreadful dining-room, where a simple meal was spread.
"I haven't heard--" she said.
"I'm in." "I'm glad." "My father-- ?" he asked curtly.
She looked at him wide-eyed for a second or two as he stood, his fur-lined coat with astrachan collar thrown open, his hand holding a soft felt hat on his hip, his absurdly beautiful head thrown back, to casual glance the Fortunate Youth of a month or two ago.

But to Jane's jealous eye he was not even the man she had seen that afternoon.