"That is a little improvement which I have adopted," remarked the master of the house.

"As you go up to a door your weight upon the planks releases a spring which causes the hinges to revolve.

Pray step in.

This is my own little sanctum, and furnished after my own heart." If Robert expected to see some fresh exhibition of wealth and luxury he was woefully disappointed, for he found himself in a large but bare room, with a little iron truckle-bed in one corner, a few scattered wooden chairs, a dingy carpet, and a large table heaped with books, bottles, papers, and all the other _debris_ which collect around a busy and untidy man.

Motioning his visitor into a chair, Raffles Haw pulled off his coat, and, turning up the sleeves of his coarse flannel shirt, he began to plunge and scrub in the warm water which flowed from a tap in the wall.
"You see how simple my own tastes are," he remarked, as he mopped his dripping face and hair with the towel.