He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Married the other and ran off after Mary died. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. They turned the last corner, and almost immediately a man who had been standing there turned and struck Ennison a violent blow on the cheek. Playing became a way of escape.
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