It was a passage, almost a tunnel for a few yards, leading to an open space, on one side of which was an old churchyard--strange survival in such a part--and on the other the offices of several firms of stockbrokers, a Russian banker, an actuary.

It was the barest of impulses which led him to glance up the entry before he blew out the match.

Then he gave a quick start and became for a moment paralyzed.

Within a few feet of him something was lying on the ground--a dark mass, black and soft--the body of a man, perhaps.

Just above it, a pair of eyes gleamed at him through the semi-darkness.
Laverick at first had no thought of tragedy.