He was not therefore popular with the old man, and at Valencia he thought it prudent to desert.
Stella Croyle had turned towards him again.

There was a vividness in his manner, an enjoyment, too, which laid hold upon her.

It was curious to her to realise that this man talking to her here in the Bayswater Road, had been so lately a ragged youth scouting for his living on the quays of Southern Spain.
"You were at that place--Alicante!" she cried.
"Part of the time." "And there Mario Escobar saw you.

I wonder why he was frightened lest you too should have seen him," she added slowly.
"Was he ?" "Yes.

He was sitting on the same side of the table as you, so you wouldn't have noticed.