brushed, the first impression given by his appearance as he stood in the
archway was that he was a young "toff" poking his nose where it was not
wanted; but, as he drew near, they saw that the well-brushed clothes
were worn, and there were patches on his shoes.

"What did you do that for?" he asked, and he asked it merely as if he
wanted to find out the reason.

"I'm not going to have you swells dropping in to my club as if it was
your own," said the hunchback.

"I'm not a swell, and I didn't know it was a club," Marco answered. "I
heard boys, and I thought I'd come and look. When I heard you reading
about Samavia, I wanted to hear."

He looked at the reader with his silent-expressioned eyes.

"You needn't have thrown a stone," he added. "They don't do it at men's
clubs. I'll go away."

He turned about as if he were going, but, before he had taken three
steps, the hunchback hailed him unceremoniously.

"Hi!" he called out. "Hi, you!"

"What do you want?" said Marco.

"I bet you don't know where Samavia is, or what they're fighting about."
The hunchback threw the words at him.