His single back room, remarkable for having an extremely large cupboard, he rented furnished from two elderly spinsters, dressmakers in a humble way with a clientele of servant girls mostly.

He had a heavy padlock put on the cupboard, but otherwise he was a model lodger, giving no trouble, and requiring practically no attendance.

His oddities were that he insisted on being present when his room was being swept, and that when he went out he locked his door, and took the key away with him.
Ossipon had a vision of these round black-rimmed spectacles progressing along the streets on the top of an omnibus, their self-confident glitter falling here and there on the walls of houses or lowered upon the heads of the unconscious stream of people on the pavements.

The ghost of a sickly smile altered the set of Ossipon's thick lips at the thought of the walls nodding, of people running for life at the sight of those spectacles.

If they had only known! What a panic! He murmured interrogatively: "Been sitting long here ?" "An hour or more," answered the other negligently, and took a pull at the dark beer.