"The one you dream of?"
"Yes. Do you ever dream of your criminals?"
"Oh, never! It's bad enough to be brought into contact with them by day; I put them out of my mind when night comes. Except this Burns--he insists on pursuing me more or less. But now that he has his just deserts, perhaps he'll let me alone. But tell me about this criminal of yours, this lucky one you dream of. I'd become a criminal myself--"
"You know him already," Elizabeth said hastily, her cheeks coloring.
"I?"
"Yes. Do you remember Harry Graves?"
Eades bent his head and placed his knuckles to his chin.
"Graves, Graves?" he said. "It seems to me--"
"The boy who stole from my father; you had him sent to the penitentiary for a year--and papa--"
"Oh, I remember; that boy! To be sure. His term must be over now."