but have my
own opinion on the matter--which opinion I believed to be shared by
Thorndyke. The conclusions to which my cogitations at length brought me
were: first, that I was an egotistical donkey, and, second, that my
relations with Miss Gibson were of an exclusively business character and
must in future be conducted on that basis, with the added consideration
that I was the confidential agent, for the time being, of Reuben Hornby,
and in honour bound to regard his interests as paramount.

"I am hoping," said Thorndyke, as he held out his hand for my teacup,
"that these profound reflections of yours are connected with the Hornby
affair; in which case I should expect to hear that the riddle is solved
and the mystery made plain."

"Why should you expect that?" I demanded, reddening somewhat, I suspect,
as I met his twinkling eye. There was something rather disturbing in
the dry, quizzical smile that I encountered and the reflection that I
had been under observation, and I felt as much embarrassed as I should
suppose a self-conscious water-flea might feel on finding itself on the
illuminated stage of a binocular microscope.

"My dear fellow," said Thorndyke, "you have not spoken a word for the
last quarter of an hour; you have devoured your food with the relentless
regularity of a sausage-machine, and you have, from time to time, made
the most damnable faces at the coffee-pot--though there I'll wager the
coffee-pot was even with you, if I may judge by the presentment that it
offers of my own countenance."

I roused myself from my reverie with a laugh at Thorndyke's quaint
conceit and a glance at the grotesquely distorted reflection of my face
in the polished silver.

"I am afraid I _have_ been a rather dull companion this morning," I
admitted apologetically.

"By no means," replied Thorndyke, with a grin. "On the contrary, I have
found you both amusing and instructive, and I only spoke when I had
exhausted your potentialities as a silent entertainer."

"You are pleased to be facetious at my expense," said I.

"Well, the expense was not a very heavy one," he retorted. "I have been
merely consuming a by-product of your mental activity--Hallo! that's
Anstey already."

A peculiar knock, apparently delivered with the handle of a
walking-stick on the outer door, was the occasion of this exclamation,
and as Thorndyke sprang up and flung the door open, a clear, musical
voice was borne in, the measured cadences of whi