He greeted the corpulent boy at the register, whose tag read, \"MY NAME IS Jason\" with familiarity. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. His frowning gaze came back to her. " "Stand out of earshot," rejoined his leader.
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