He heard in imagination the whole neighbourhood laughing--he saw it a sea of laughter overwhelming him.

He shivered as he thought of it.

He, Harold Hazlewood, the man emancipated from the fictions of society, caught like a silly struggling fish in the net of his own theories! No, that must never be.
He flung himself at his work.

He was revising the catalogue of his miniatures and in a minute he began to fumble and search about his over-loaded desk.
"Everybody is trying to thwart me this morning," he cried angrily.
"What's the matter, father ?" asked Dick, laying down the _Times_.
"Can I help ?" "I wrote a question to _Notes and Queries_ about the Marie Antoinette miniature which I bought at Lord Mirliton's sale and there was an answer in the last number, a very complete answer.

But I can't find it.