erly, but she only succeeded in putting two
large streaks of black upon her nose and forehead.

"I want to see Professor Owen," I said untruthfully.

"'E's porely this afternoon."

"Never mind," I replied quickly, "is Mr. Owen in--his son?"

"'E don't live 'ere, 'e lives at West-'Am with 'is ornt."

"Would you give me his address, I won't interrupt the Professor if he
is not well?"

"Who may you be, I don't remember your fice?"

"I know Mr. Owen at Oxford, I have never been here before."

She laughed for a moment and then said she should have to ask the
Professor for the address, but just as I was going to say I would write
and ask him to forward my letter, a door opened on my right, and an
enormous man in a blue pair of trousers and a flannel shirt came out
into the passage.

"This gent wants Mr. 'Ubert's address," the servant said, and
disappeared very quickly up another flight of stairs.

"Are you the Professor?" I asked.

"That's me."

I held out my hand, but the passage was dark and his attempt to get
hold of it went wide.

"Will you come into my room? Business, I suppose?"

I said it was business, and walked into a small sitting-room, which
seemed to be furnished principally with a table, a big arm-chair, and
empty bottles.

"I'm cleaning up a bit to-day, you must excuse the bottles," he said,
and put his hands on the table. I would have excused everything if
only the room had not been so dreadfully close, and I stood while the
Professor looked at the bottles and finally picked one up and put it
down again in the same place. Then, as if the exertion was too much
for him, he sank with a thud into the chair.

"You aren't well, I am afraid."

"No," he answered, "not at all well; damp heat always affects my head."

I sat down on a box labelled "soda-water" and looked at him. My first
impression of him had been one of huge strength, my second was one of
flabbiness, and no one could help guessing the reason. Everything
about him was huge except his eyes, and they might have been had I been
able to see what they were like, but all I could see was the puffiness
beneath them, and that was enough to make me wish I had never come. I
stared at him for some time, but he did not speak, and at last he began
to breathe so heavily that I had to interrupt him. "I say, Professor,"
I began, and he jumped up and began to rub his eyes. Then he sat down
again and putting his elbows on his knees looked at m