there. At his fortnight's end he had achieved absolutely nothing but his hero's name, and this was only Leonard Bywater. What to do with this person he had not the faintest idea. He didn't even know where he lived—I mean whether the story was to be about London or Sussex or South Africa or where. Much less did he know when this Leonard Bywater lived—I mean whether he was a man of to-day or of yesterday or of to-morrow, though he felt pretty certain that he wasn't an Ancient Roman. As for his appearance, he might have had any kind of nose or eyes or hair, and Dunkle would have been none the wiser. It is almost impossible to be more vague than was Dunkle about this hero of his. He wasn't even interested in him. He disliked him, indeed, most heartily and wished for nothing less than the improvement of their acquaintance.
