Hamilton had a glimpse of Pig-iron Dunham's face.
"Hooked!" he exclaimed. "Hooked!"
But he had a good look at Perry Blair's too, as the pair passed.
"Dammitt!" he snapped. "Dammitt!" And yet folks wondered why a chap who knocked around this city hunting news sometimes drank more than was good for him.
CHAPTER VII
AS WILLOWS BUD IN SPRING
Cecille was still up, staring out of the window, when Felicity and Perry Blair came in that night. Perry stayed but a moment, only long enough to promise that he would come again. Then he was gone. And Felicity was standing before the other girl, every line of her pulsing triumph.
"Not him!" Cecille cried. She could not have understood the triumph better had Felicity explained with a torrent of words.
"Oh, not him!" with quick, unthinking horror. "He—he's only a boy."