"Laurence, something strange has happened. Some one is here—you haven't heard?—your father has come."
A look of apprehension on his face quickly gave place to astonishment as she ended.
"My father!... What the deuce!"
He looked dismayed; then as she went on to describe the new arrival, incredulous.
"I don't believe it's my father. He wouldn't turn up like this after twenty-five years without a word!... I've thought for a long time he was dead."
"Well, he isn't—it's your father, sure enough."
Laurence, with a blank look, towelled his head and neck.
"Jesus Christ!" he ejaculated.
He went and stared into the mirror, rubbing his hair till it stood up wildly all over his head. There were threads of grey all through it, but the beard that covered his mouth and was cut square below his chin was intensely black, and so were his arched brows, beneath which the narrow eyes showed still their vivid blue. His broad shoulders, the joining of the massive neck, were strong, unbowed.
"What did you do with him?" he asked abruptly.