Half a head shorter than Lee, he was of stockier build, a man somewhere near thirty-five or six years of age, with hair tinged with gray above his ears.

Both in manner and speech he exhibited by turns superficial gayety, latent cynicism, and an egregious assumption.

When Lee had introduced him to the young ladies at Sarita Creek, he had made himself at home in three minutes.

He had the latest witticisms of restaurants and theatres, the newest stories, the most recent slang; his clothes were of the autumn's extreme mode; he was intelligent if frankly materialistic; and he interested, amused, and diverted the two girls.

From his gay and airy talk they gathered that he had been married and divorced, that the West might have the scenery but New York had the bright lights; that money could buy anything from food to fame; and that "movies" were a bore.