d nodded to a little, lean man of ambiguous age, in a
strained coat, who entered at this moment with a rapid lurching
gait. He sat down immediately opposite them, under Lightmark's
presentment, with which Rainham curiously compared him. And it
struck him that there was something in that oddly repulsive figure
which Lightmark's superficial crayon had missed. The long, haggard
face was there, with its ill-kempt hair and beard; and the lips,
which, when they parted in a smile that was too full of irony,
revealed the man's uneven, discoloured teeth. Rainham lost sight of
his uncouthness in a sense of his extreme power. His eyes, which
were restless and extraordinarily brilliant, met Rainham's
presently; and the latter was conscious of a certain fascination in
their sustained gaze. In spite of the air of savagery which pervaded
the man, it was a movement of sympathy which, on the whole, he
experienced towards him. And it seemed as if this sentiment were
reciprocal, for when the German youth, who was the cupbearer of the
establishment, had taken Oswyn's order, and had brought him absinthe
in a long glass, he motioned it abruptly to the opposite table. Then
he crossed over and accosted Lightmark, whom he had not hitherto
appeared to recognise, with a word of greeting. Lightmark murmured
his name and Rainham's, and the strange, little man nodded to him
not unamiably.
"I must smoke, if you don't mind," he said, after a moment.
They nodded assent, and he produced tobacco in a screw of newspaper
from the pocket of his coat, and began rapidly to make cigarettes.
Rainham watched the dexterous movements of his long nervous
hands--the colour of old ivory--and found them noticeable.
"You are not an artist, I think," he suggested after a moment,
fixing his curiously intent eyes on Rainham.
"No," admitted the other, smiling, "I am afraid I am not. I am only
here on sufferance. I am a mender of ships."
"He is a connoisseur," put in Lightmark gaily. "It's an accident
that he happens to be connected with shipping--a fortunate one,
though, for he owns a most picturesque old shanty in the far East.
But actually he does not know a rudder post from a jib-boom."
"I suppose you have been painting it?" said Oswyn shortly.
Lightmark nodded.
"I have been painting the river from his wharf. The picture is just
finished, and on the whole I am pleased with it. You should come in
and give it a look, Oswyn, some time. You haven't seen my
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