The two men, sole occupants of the somewhat shabby cottage parlour, lingered over their port, not so much with the air of wine lovers, but rather as human beings and intimates, perfectly content with their surroundings and company.

Outside, the wind was howling over the marshes, and occasional bursts of rain came streaming against the window panes.

Inside at any rate was comfort, triumphing over varying conditions.

The cloth upon the plain deal table was of fine linen, the decanter and glasses were beautifully cut; there were walnuts and, in a far Corner, cigars of a well-known brand and cigarettes from a famous tobacconist.

Beyond that little oasis, however, were all the evidences of a hired abode.