A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. “Afterwards it seems to me that there are no limits to what one may not do amongst one’s own set.
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