Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. There's one person in the house whom I wouldn't frighten for the world. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. I feel almost inclined to regret the fact. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters.
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