Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him. 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. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. "I love you like a son, and will follow you like a dog. It’s a sort of guarantee of confidence. I will tell you this much, because you have been kind. Hell, my mom hates everyone, don’t take this personally, but she doesn’t like you very much and she isn’t shy about letting me know. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely.
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