But curiosity had already died out within him; gain, loss, chance, Fate--and the tense white concentration of the man beside him no longer interested him; nor did a sweet-faced young girl in the corridor who looked a second too long at him; nor the handsome over-flushed youth who was with her and who cried out in loud recognition: "Gad, Hamil; why didn't you tell me you were coming?
There's somebody here who wants to meet you, but Portlaw's got her--somewhere.

You'll take supper with us anyway! We'll find you a fair impenitent." Hamil stared at him coolly.

He was on no such terms with Malcourt, drunk or sober.

But everybody was Malcourt's friend just then, and he went on recklessly: "You've got to stay; hasn't he, Dolly ?--Oh, I forgot--Miss Wilming, Mr.
Hamil, who's doing the new park, you know.

All kinds of genius buzzes in his head--roulette wheels buzz in mine.