She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. "Well, I'm glad she's spared this. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. Having seen him heavily ironed, and placed in the Condemned Hold, Jonathan recrossed the street. She decided to leave this matter until the morrow and devote the morning to settling up with Mr.
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