"Do you know that boy?" asked his companion.
"No, certainly not," answered Clarence, coloring.
"I thought you looked as if you did."
"He looks like a boy I met in the country last summer," was the evasive answer.
"Poor devil! I wonder what he has been doing."
"Stealing, very likely," said Clarence, shrugging his shoulders.
"He doesn't look like a thief."
"Appearances are deceitful," said Clarence, oracularly.
At the supper-table, where Clarence met his father for the first time since he had called at his office, he said: