ble, and managed to swallow a cup of rather indifferent
coffee. Then I smoked another cigar, and when the things were cleared
away and the writing materials had arrived, I made a pretence of
beginning my letter.

All this time, of course, I was keeping a strict watch across the
street. Nothing interesting seemed to happen, and I was just beginning
to think that I was wasting my time in a rather hopeless fashion when
suddenly I saw George come out of his private office into the main
room opposite, wearing his hat and carrying an umbrella. He spoke to
one of the clerks as though giving him some parting instructions, and
went out, shutting the door behind him.

I jumped to my feet, and hurrying down the stairs, demanded my bill
from the rather surprised waiter. Considering that I had been sitting
upstairs for over an hour and a half, I suppose my haste did appear a
trifle unreasonable; anyway he took so long making out the bill that
at last I threw down five shillings and left him at the process.

Even so, I was only just in time. As I came out into the street George
emerged from the doorway opposite. He looked less depressed than
before and much more like his usual sleek self, and the sight of him
in these apparently recovered spirits whipped up my resentment again
to all its old bitterness.

He set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the Houses of
Parliament, and crossing the street I took up a tactful position in
his rear. In this order we proceeded along Whitehall, across Trafalgar
Square, and up Charing Cross Road into Coventry Street. Here George
stopped for a moment to buy himself a carnation--he had always had a
taste for buttonholes--and then resuming our progress, we crossed the
Circus, and started off down Piccadilly.

By this time what is known I believe as "the lust of the chase" had
fairly got hold of me. More strongly than ever I had the feeling that
something interesting was going to happen, and when George turned up
Bond Street I quickened my steps so as to bring me back to my old if
rather tempting position close behind him.

Quite suddenly in the very narrowest part of the pavement he came to a
stop, and entered a doorway next to a tobacconist's shop. In a
couple of strides I had reached the spot, just in time to see him
disappearing up a winding flight of stone stairs.

There were two little brass plates at the side of the door, and I
turned to them eagerly to see whom he might be honouring