He had a good reputation among people generally, but then this counted as little.
Much dross might be taken for pure gold did not the assayer apply his tests.
That was what Darrell did—looked into each man’s private character, unknown to the individual under the scrutiny.
He seemed to take it for granted that the artist would come out, and in this he appeared to make no mistake. Sure enough Prescott appeared.
He was evidently off for the evening, but did not dress as though he meant to spend it in fashionable society.
Darrell followed him to a certain club where artists were wont to congregate, and here the other seemed quite a favorite.
At half-past eleven Prescott left this place. He did not head toward home.
On the contrary he seemed ill at ease, and looked around him once or twice as though he were afraid lest some of his fellows at the club should be near.
This action in itself was suspicious to Eric—it indicated that the artist had certain habits which he desired to keep a secret even from those who would have thought the least of it.
Darrell’s curiosity was at once aroused.