CHAPTER XX.
Underhand "Le doute empoisonne tout et ne tue rien." As I walked through the park towards Isabella's house on the evening of the dinner-party, Devar's hansom cab dashed past me and stopped a few yards farther on.

The man must have had sharp eyes to recognise me in a London haze on a November evening.

Devar leapt from his cab and came towards me.
"Shall I walk with you or will you drive with me ?" he said.
Placed between two evil alternatives, I suggested that it would be better for his health to walk with me--hoping, although it was a dry night, that his shiny boots were too precious or tight for such exercise.

Mr.Devar, however, made a sign to the groom to follow, and slipped his hand engagingly within my arm.
"Glad of the chance of a walk," he said.

"Wish I was a free man like you, Howard, London would not often see me!" "What would ?" I asked, for I like to know where vermin harbours.
"Ah!"-- he paused, and, as I thought, glanced at me.