THE porter who let me into the house where Monkton lived directed me to the floor on which his rooms were situated.

On getting upstairs, I found his door on the landing ajar.

He heard my footsteps, I suppose, for he called to me to come in before I could knock.
I entered, and found him sitting by the table, with some loose letters in his hand, which he was just tying together into a packet.

I noticed, as he asked me to sit down, that his express ion looked more composed, though the paleness had not yet left his face.

He thanked me for coming; repeated that he had something very important to say to me; and then stopped short, apparently too much embarrassed to proceed.