“Halloa, here’s a new fellow grinning at the follies of his kind. Come here, you dark-haired chap. What’s your name?”
“Evson,” said Walter, quietly approaching them. Before getting any fun out of him it was necessary to see what kind of boy he was; and as Jones hardly knew what line to take, he began on the commonest and most vulgar tack of catechising him about his family and relations. “What’s your father?”
“My father is a gentleman,” said Walter, rather surprised at the rudeness of the question.
“And where do you live?”
“At Semlyn.”
“And how old are you?”
“Just thirteen.”
“And how many sisters have you?”
Walter rather thought of asking, “What’s that to you?” but as he saw no particular harm in answering the question, and did not want to seem too stiff-backed, he answered, “Three.”
“And are they very beautiful?”