illing to go the length of saying that it
represented more, and stood for dirty, drivelling, desperate, and a few
other choice words which it is quite unnecessary to mention. Only a
few, and these were among the knowing and peculiarly observant ones of
Gorman's intimates, said that "D" stood for "deep." But then, many of
those who thus pronounced their opinion, were comparatively worthless
characters, given to scandal and slander; so the reader must not allow
himself to be biassed too much by their report.

Certain it is, however, that when Gorman was asked on one occasion what
his Christian name was, he replied that he had no Christian name;
because he didn't believe in Christianity, and that he signed himself
"D," to be distinguished from the other Gormans who might chance to
exist in the universe.

People were not at all shocked at his bold statement of unbelief;
because, in the circle in which he moved, the same disbelief was pretty
general.

Besides many other traits and qualities, definable and indefinable,
Gorman had the power of assuming the appearance either of a burglar of
the lowest type, or a well-to-do contractor or tradesman. A slight
change in dress and manner were sufficient to metamorphose him beyond
recognition.

Everybody knew, also, that Gorman was the landlord of a small
public-house at the corner of a dirty street, not far from London
Bridge; and that he kept a stout, middle-aged man on the premises to do
the duty of host, while he himself went about "other business," which
nobody knew of, and which no one could find out, although many had tried
to do so with all their might.

Every day in the year, Gorman might have been seen at the "Golden Swan";
but never for longer than a few minutes at a time, when he inspected the
books, received the cash drawn the day before; and made an impression on
all in the premises, that tended to convince them they were well looked
after.

"Humph!" ejaculated Gorman, as he finished counting the dirty coppers
and pieces of silver which his agent had delivered to him, and dropped
them from his dirty fingers into a dirty leather bag: "Business is dull,
I think."

"It ain't brisk just now, sir," replied the deputy-landlord of the
"Golden Swan."

Gorman received this reply with another "Humph," and then, putting the
bag in his coat pocket, prepared to leave.

"No one bin askin' for me?" inquired Gorman.

"No, sir; no one."

"I'll be back to-morrow about