The secretary put his hand before his eyes to shade them from the glare of the lamp, and for some moments looked at Hugh with a frowning brow, as if he remembered to have seen him lately, but could not call to mind where, or on what occasion.

His uncertainty was very brief, for before Hugh had spoken a word, he said, as his countenance cleared up: 'Ay, ay, I recollect.

It's quite right, John, you needn't wait.

Don't go, Dennis.' 'Your servant, master,' said Hugh, as Grueby disappeared.
'Yours, friend,' returned the secretary in his smoothest manner.

'What brings YOU here?
We left nothing behind us, I hope ?' Hugh gave a short laugh, and thrusting his hand into his breast, produced one of the handbills, soiled and dirty from lying out of doors all night, which he laid upon the secretary's desk after flattening it upon his knee, and smoothing out the wrinkles with his heavy palm.
'Nothing but that, master.