"There, keep like that," cried the artist. "Don't stir. I do believe
I'm getting you. Holy Moses, it will be great! If only I could catch
the expression! There's nothing like adventure, is there? The
glorious uncertainty of it! To wake up in the morning and know that
the unexpected is bound to happen during the day. Exciting, isn't
it?"

"Ay," said Paul, his face aglow.

The young man worked tense and quick at the luminous eyes. He broke
a long silence by asking, "What's your name?"

"Paul Kegworthy."

"Paul? That's odd." In the sphere of life to which the ragged urchin
belonged Toms and Bills and Jims were as thick as blackberries, but
Pauls were rare.

"What's odd?" said Paul.

"Your name. How did you get it? It's uncommon."

"I suppose it is," said Paul. "I never thowt of it. I never knew
anybody of that name afore."

Here was another sign and token of romantic origin suddenly
revealed. Paul felt the thrill of it. He resisted a temptation to
ask his new friend whether it was an appellation generally reserved
for princes.