All else in the man--his noble proportions, his fine features,
and his frank bearing--fitted in with that jovial, man-to-man
manner which he affected. Here, one would say, is a bluff,
honest fellow, whose heart would be sound however rude his
outspoken words might seem. It was only when those dead, dark
eyes, deep and remorseless, were turned upon a man that he shrank
within himself, feeling that he was face to face with an infinite
possibility of latent evil, with a strength and courage and
cunning behind it which made it a thousand times more deadly.
Having had a good look at his man, McMurdo elbowed his way
forward with his usual careless audacity, and pushed himself
through the little group of courtiers who were fawning upon the
powerful boss, laughing uproariously at the smallest of his
jokes. The young stranger's bold gray eyes looked back
fearlessly through their glasses at the deadly black ones which
turned sharply upon him.
"Well, young man, I can't call your face to mind."
"I'm new here, Mr. McGinty."
"You are not so new that you can't give a gentleman his proper
title."
"He's Councillor McGinty, young man," said a voice from the
group.
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