All four people moved a little nervously into the drawing-room, maintaining a sort of fluttered amiability of sound and movement. " "You're a noble-hearted little fellow, Thames," rejoined Wood, casting a look of pride and affection at his adopted son, whose head he gently patted; "and give promise of a glorious manhood. I want him as my friend. What he wanted desperately was to be alone. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. It doesn’t matter.
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