He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. "There's a guinea to drink our health," she added, slipping a piece of money into his hand. " "When will you want me?"—with pitiful eagerness. . He went in there, and he was in there for a good half hour. ’ Mrs Sindlesham’s lips twitched. But what the deuce! He was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt. He felt he had raised a storm which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to allay. Still, his robust frame enabled him to hold out. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost.
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