hem and dry them all over this towel, whenever he came
in from a police court or dismissed a client from his room. When I and
my friends repaired to him at six o'clock next day, he seemed to have
been engaged on a case of a darker complexion than usual, for we found
him with his head butted into this closet, not only washing his hands,
but laving his face and gargling his throat. And even when he had
done all that, and had gone all round the jack-towel, he took out his
penknife and scraped the case out of his nails before he put his coat
on.

There were some people slinking about as usual when we passed out into
the street, who were evidently anxious to speak with him; but there was
something so conclusive in the halo of scented soap which encircled
his presence, that they gave it up for that day. As we walked along
westward, he was recognized ever and again by some face in the crowd of
the streets, and whenever that happened he talked louder to me; but
he never otherwise recognized anybody, or took notice that anybody
recognized him.

He conducted us to Gerrard Street, Soho, to a house on the south side of
that street. Rather a stately house of its kind, but dolefully in want
of painting, and with dirty windows. He took out his key and opened the
door, and we all went into a stone hall, bare, gloomy, and little used.
So, up a dark brown staircase into a series of three dark brown rooms on
the first floor. There were carved garlands on the panelled walls, and
as he stood among them giving us welcome, I know what kind of loops I
thought they looked like.

Dinner was laid in the best of these rooms; the second was his
dressing-room; the third, his bedroom. He told us that he held the whole
house, but rarely used more of it than we saw. The table was comfortably
laid--no silver in the service, of course--and at the side of his chair
was a capacious dumb-waiter, with a variety of bottles and decanters on
it, and four dishes of fruit for dessert. I noticed throughout, that he
kept everything under his own hand, and distributed everything himself.

There was a bookcase in the room; I saw from the backs of the books,
that they were about evidence, criminal law, criminal biography, trials,
acts of Parliament, and such things. The furniture was all very solid
and good, like his watch-chain. It had an official look, however, and
there was nothing merely ornamental to be seen. In a corner was a little
table of papers with a sh