And when the Tracer replied that, considering the business he had undertaken for Mr.Gatewood, he really could not see why Mr.Gatewood should interest himself concerning the whereabouts of Miss Southerland, the young man had nothing to say, and escaped as soon as possible, enraged at himself, at Mr.Keen, and vaguely holding the entire world guilty of conspiracy.
He had no definite idea of what he wanted, except that his desire to see Miss Southerland again seemed out of all proportion to any reasonable motive for seeing her.

Occasional fits of disgust with himself for what he had done were varied with moody hours of speculation.

Suppose Mr.
Keen did find his ideal?
What of it?
He no longer wanted to see her.

He had no use for her.

The savor of the enterprise had gone stale in his mouth; he was by turns worried, restless, melancholy, sulky, uneasy.