"My partner will very much object to you."
"That's all right. It's not likely he knows jiu-jitsu as well as I
do," cheerfully replied the man, still hurrying on at the same pace.
He kept half a step in advance of the girl, as if to be prepared in
case she should begin to run; and thus, without seeming to look, Win
could see him in profile.
He was so smartly dressed that, in England, he would have been called
a "nut." What was the American equivalent for a nut, she did not know.
He had a hawk-nosed profile which might have been effective had not
his undercut jaw stuck out aggressively, suggesting extreme, hectoring
obstinacy, even cruelty.
She had time to see that his hair was an uninteresting brown, and his
skin the ordinary sallow skin of the man about town. But suddenly he
took her unawares, turning to face her with disquieting abruptness.
She caught an impression of eyes sparkling in the lamplight; small and
set close on either side of a high-bridged, narrow nose, yet bright
and boldly smiling. His voice was that of an educated person and not
disagreeable in tone, but Win was anxious to escape hearing it again.
He seemed to wait for an answer, and when it did not come, he went on:
"You ought to go in for an Olympic race.
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