He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. In the one he approached was gathered together a vast assortment of weapons, each of which, as appeared from the ticket attached to it, had been used as an instrument of destruction. " While he was thus musing, he fancied he heard the lock tried.
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