She took his hand in hers. "My name is Kneebone," added the portly personage, stepping forward. From beginning to end it was first-hand stuff. He began to tell me something—and stopped. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence. Whence had she come: whither was she bound? A temporary congestion in the street held up the caravan for a spell; and Ah Cum looked backward to note if any of the party had become separated. It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men.
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