The cavalier of the streets smiled curiously.
“I had thought, Mrs. Avalon, that it was I who was detaining you....”
“You see,” said Mrs. Avalon gently, “you are the vilest man I have ever met. You are probably the vilest man in the world, and so I am curious. You will have your fifty pounds. Or would you not prefer a hundred?”
But the ice of Fay Avalon did not freeze the cavalier of the streets.
“I do not accept presents from ladies,” he said. “Fifty is business, but the extra fifty is an insult to a gentleman.” He smiled right into her face. “You may pass, Mrs. Avalon.”
“You are a gentleman? You were, perhaps, you mean?”
“A gentleman,” said the shabby young man, “is a man who is never unintentionally rude to any one. I am a gentleman.”
He stood aside, and swept off his dilapidated hat. She took one step, two, three....
“I do hope,” she murmured swiftly, “that I will never see you again.”
The lean, weathered face with the fantastic nose mocked her. Fay Avalon had never been mocked before.