Why, he was positively handsome! His dark head, standing out boldly against the bolstering pillows, the fine lines of his face definite, the pallor--he was like a Roman cameo.

Who and what could he be, this picturesque foundling?
His glance flashed into hers delightedly.

For hours and hours the constant wonder where she was, why no one mentioned her, why they evaded his apparently casual questions.

To burst upon his vision in the nadir of his boredom and loneliness like this! She was glorious, this American girl.

She made him think of a golden scabbard housing a fine Toledo blade.