"Furthermore," the man whom Trent had addressed as Monty continued, "there arises the question of danger and physical suitability to the situation.
Monty waved his hand - a magnificent and silencing gesture.
Monty - no one at Buckomari had ever known of any other name for him - stretched out a long hand, with delicate tapering fingers, and let it rest for a moment gingerly in the thick, brown palm of his companion.
"You won't get it, Monty, so it's no use whining," Trent said bluntly.
"Of fortune - fortune!" Monty's head dropped upon his chest, his nostrils dilated, he seemed to fall into a state of stupor.
"What a fool you are to want it, Monty! You're a wreck already.
There was a ring of passionate truth in Monty's words.