"
"But certainly, sir, with pleasure."
He opened the side door and showed them into his sanctum beyond the
glass window. It was a small, evil-looking room, crowded with fumes of
stale tobacco. On the walls hung two or three French prints of more than
doubtful decency. A table with a bottle and two or three glasses ranged
on it occupied the middle of the floor. On a chair by the fire the Gil
Bias was thrown in a crumpled attitude. One gas-burner flared, unshaded
by any glass globe. Julian sat down on the Gil Bias. Valentine refused
the landlord's offer of a chair, and stood looking rather contemptuously
at the inartistic improprieties of the prints.
"Did you let in the gentleman who came last night?" asked Julian.
"But, sir, of course. I am always here. I mind my house. I see that only
respect-"
"Exactly. I don't doubt that for a moment. What was the lady like,--the
lady who accompanied him?"
"Oh, sir, very chic, very pretty."
"Didn't you hear her go out in the night?"
The landlord looked for a moment as if he were considering the
advisableness of a little bluster. He stared hard at Julian and
thought better of it.
"Not a sound, not a mouse. Till the bell rang I slept. Then she is gone!"
"Would you recognize her again?"
"But no.
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