Take him for all in all, a lad of
promise.
Kirk's sense of being in a dream continued. His identity seemed to have
undergone a change. The person he had known as Kirk Winfield had
disappeared, to be succeeded by a curious individual bubbling over with
an absurd pride for which it was not easy to find an outlet. Hitherto a
rather reserved man, he was conscious now of a desire to accost perfect
strangers in the street and inform them that he was not the ordinary
person they probably imagined, but a father with an intensely unusual
son at home, and if they did not believe him they could come right
along and see for themselves.
The only flaw in his happiness at the moment was the fact that his
circle of friends was so small. He had not missed the old brigade of
the studio before, but now the humblest of them would have been
welcome, provided he would have sat still and listened. Even Percy
Shanklyn would have been acceptable as an audience.
Steve, excellent fellow, was always glad to listen to him on his
favourite subject. He had many long talks with Steve on the question of
William's future. Steve, as the infant's godfather, which post he had
claimed and secured at an early date, had definite views on the matter.
Here, held Steve, was the chance of a lifetime. With proper training, a
baby of such obvious muscular promise might be made the greatest
fighter that ever stepped into the ring.
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