“Yes, I have heard of him, and I know him by sight,” he admitted. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Goodbye. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. Prudence shook her head. White became conscious of a distinct sense of uneasiness, and showed it in her face. "That's your hunting ground," said the doctor. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head.
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