"Why do you know such awful men?"
"What? I don't know any awful men."
"Oh yes, you do; one came here yesterday; he had whiskers, and he was awful."
"Whiskers?" His soul revolted in disclaimer. "I believe I only know one man with whiskers--a lawyer."
"Yes--that was him; a perfectly horrid man. Mother didn't mind him, but I thought he was a beast."
"Ventnor! Came here? How d'you mean?"
"He did; about some business of yours, too." Her face had clouded over. Bob Pillin had of late been harassed by the still-born beginning of a poem:
"I rode upon my way and saw A maid who watched me from the door."