Indeed, he caught himself thinking that he knew very little whatever of his son; but he distinctly remembered an unsatisfied, dough-faced youth who took delight in "calling down the old man" and reducing his mother to tears--such a person as adds to the gaiety of public rooms and hotel piazzas, where the ingenuous young of the wealthy play with or revile the bell-boys.

But this well set-up fisher-youth did not wriggle, looked at him with eyes steady, clear, and unflinching, and spoke in a tone distinctly, even startlingly, respectful.

There was that in his voice, too, which seemed to promise that the change might be permanent, and that the new Harvey had come to stay.
"Some one's been coercing him," thought Cheyne.

"Now Constance would never have allowed that.

Don't see as Europe could have done it any better." "But why didn't you tell this man, Troop, who you were ?" the mother repeated, when Harvey had expanded his story at least twice.
"Disko Troop, dear.