I recognized him as the occupant of a flat on the top floor, with whom I had passed the time of day on the stairs.
'Can I speak to you ?' he said.

'May I come in for a minute ?' He was steadying his voice with an effort, and his hand was pawing my arm.
I got my door open and motioned him in.

No sooner was he over the threshold than he made a dash for my back room, where I used to smoke and write my letters.

Then he bolted back.
'Is the door locked ?' he asked feverishly, and he fastened the chain with his own hand.
'I'm very sorry,' he said humbly.

'It's a mighty liberty, but you looked the kind of man who would understand.