"Bring me news of Georges Odin's death," he said, "and you shall marry my daughter."
Gavin rose and offered him his hand.
"I will start directly I have seen the Lady Evelyn," he said.
BOOK III
THE LIGHT
CHAPTER XXIII
BUKHAREST
"In America, my dear Gavin, they would certainly name you for a very prince of hustlers."
The speaker, a lad of twenty-two years of age, leaned back indolently in his chair and sipped a tiny cup of Turkish coffee with lazy satisfaction. Gifted with brown curly hair, ridiculously blue eyes, and a beardless chin, Cambridge had named him ironically "the Lamb." His name was Arthur Kenyon, and there had been no prettier athlete in all London when he was there, precisely ten days ago.