Who knows where it may end?
Pooh! The man is like other men.

He is certain, before the day is over, to prove ungrateful, or attempt the mountebank-heroic, or give me some other excuse for bidding good-evening.

And in the meantime there is something quaint in the fact of finding so sober a respectability, with a young daughter too, abroad on this fool's errand, which really makes me curious to discover with what variety of flea I am to class him.' But while Aben-Ezra was talking to himself about the father, he could not help, somehow, thinking about the daughter.

Again and again he found himself looking at her.

She was, undeniably, most beautiful.