at he was off. Well, let him be off!
I mean to see all that's to be seen."

And in my nervous anxiety to allay any suspicions aroused by my
companion's extraordinary behavior, I outstayed even the eminent
detective and his friends, saw them examine the Raffles Relics, heard
them discuss me under my own nose, and at last was alone with the
anemic clerk. I put my hand in my pocket, and measured him with a
sidelong eye. The tipping system is nothing less than a minor bane of
my existence. Not that one is a grudging giver, but simply because in
so many cases it is so hard to know whom to tip and what to tip him. I
know what it is to be the parting guest who has not parted freely
enough, and that not from stinginess but the want of a fine instinct on
the point. I made no mistake, however, in the case of the clerk, who
accepted my pieces of silver without demur, and expressed a hope of
seeing the article which I had assured him I was about to write. He
has had some years to wait for it, but I flatter myself that these
belated pages will occasion more interest than offense if they ever do
meet those watery eyes.

Twilight was falling when I reached the street; the sky behind St.
Stephen's had flushed and blackened like an angry face; the lamps were
lit, and under every one I was unreasonable enough to look for Raffles.
Then I made foolishly sure that I should find him hanging about the
station, and hung thereabouts myself until one Richmond train had gone
without me. In the end I walked over the bridge to Waterloo, and took
the first train to Teddington instead. That made a shorter walk of it,
but I had to grope my way through a white fog from the river to Ham
Common, and it was the hour of our cosy dinner when I reached our place
of retirement. There was only a flicker of firelight on the blinds: I
was the first to return after all. It was nearly four hours since
Raffles had stolen away from my side in the ominous precincts of
Scotland Yard. Where could he be? Our landlady wrung her hands over
him; she had cooked a dinner after her favorite's heart, and I let it
spoil before making one of the most melancholy meals of my life.

Up to midnight there was no sign of him; but long before this time I
had reassured our landlady with a voice and face that must have given
my words the lie. I told her that Mr. Ralph (as she used to call him)
had said something about going to the theatre; that I thought he had
given up t