"I am."
"Daughter. First name?"
"I am not his daughter."
"Oh, niece. Full name, please."
"I am no relation—just his—his friend."
Sim the clerk looked up sharply. Hamilton reddened, glowered at him. "I understand," said Sim, leering at her. And in a tone that reeked insinuation which quite escaped her, he went on, "We'll put your name down. What is it?"
"Lorna Sackville."
"You don't look English—not at all the English style of beauty, eh—Doctor?"
"That's all, Miss Sackville," said Hamilton, with a scowl at the clerk. Susan and he went out into Twelfth Street. Hamilton from time to time stole a glance of sympathy and inquiry into the sad young face, as he and she walked eastward together. "He's a strong man and sure to pull through," said the doctor. "Are you alone at the hotel?"
"I've nobody but him in the world," replied she.