I am willing to trust myself with him--perfectly willing, Meekins." Meekins, with ponderous footsteps, left the room and closed the door behind him.

Mr.Fentolin leaned a little forward in his chair.

It seemed as though he were on springs.

The fingers of his right hand had disappeared in the pocket of his black velvet dinner-coat.

He was certainly prepared for all emergencies.
"Now, Mr.Dunster," he said softly, "you can speak to me without reserve." Mr.Dunster dropped his voice.