"Who said we hadn't rooms?" he heard the clerk say to Brant, and then he heard Brant's reply: "An old drunk."
"Old Daggett?" said the clerk.
A frown crossed Brant's handsome face.
"Daggett?" he repeated sharply. "Frederick Daggett?"
Then he looked back over his shoulder.
"Yes, Frederick Daggett," said the old man himself. "What of it?"
"Nothing," answered Brant nervously.
He pulled out his purse and began to pay the old man, aware that the crowd had turned to listen.
But the old man did not see the extended hand. He was staring at Brant's smooth face as though he saw it for the first time.
"You pay me my money," he said thickly.