He was alone, and evidently had just come from upstairs, as a door leading to the stairway was ajar.

Mr.Norris presented Storri to London Bill, and, this social ceremony over, made few words of it before withdrawing altogether, leaving Storri and his new friend to themselves.
"Suppose we drink something," said London Bill, in noncommittal tones.
Storri ordered beer in a bottle, cork untouched; Storri had heard of knockout mixtures, and did not care to make his advent into upper criminal circles in the role of victim.

London Bill grinned in a wise way, but made no comment, calling for gin himself.
"What is it ?" said London Bill, after the gin had appeared and disappeared; "what's the argument you want to hand me ?" "I don't care to talk here," observed Storri, glancing suspiciously at the walls within touch of his hand.

"Let us go outside." "That's it," observed London Bill; "now if we was to go plantin' ourselves in Union Square, or any little open-air place like that, it's ten to one some Bull from the Central Office would come along an' spot us.

They're onto my mug; got it in the gallery in fact." "We can't talk here," said Storri decidedly.
"Wait a minute," suggested London Bill, who it was clear had grown curious as to Storri's errand, "I think I can fix the thing." He stepped into the bar and returned with a key.