As the streets grew closer and more crooked and the roofs lower and the gutters grosser with mud, a darker curiosity deepened on the brows of Basil, and the figure of Rupert seen from behind seemed to fill the street with a gigantic swagger of success.

At length, at the end of the fourth or fifth lean grey street in that sterile district, we came suddenly to a halt, the mysterious lieutenant looking once more about him with a sort of sulky desperation.

Above a row of shutters and a door, all indescribably dingy in appearance and in size scarce sufficient even for a penny toyshop, ran the inscription: "P.

Montmorency, House-Agent." "This is the office of which I spoke," said Keith, in a cutting voice.
"Will you wait here a moment, or does your astonishing tenderness about my welfare lead you to wish to overhear everything I have to say to my business adviser ?" Rupert's face was white and shaking with excitement; nothing on earth would have induced him now to have abandoned his prey.
"If you will excuse me," he said, clenching his hands behind his back, "I think I should feel myself justified in--" "Oh! Come along in," exploded the lieutenant.

He made the same gesture of savage surrender.