Then he turned suddenly, and saw that the door was standing
ajar. It had been quietly opened and a pair of eyes were peering at
him round the edge. There was no light in the hall beyond and he
could only just make out the shape of a dim human face.
"Does Mr. Garvey live here?" he asked in a firm voice.
"Who are you?" came in a man's tones.
"I'm Mr. Sidebotham's private secretary. I wish to see Mr.
Garvey on important business."
"Are you expected?"
"I suppose so," he said impatiently, thrusting a card through
the opening. "Please take my name to him at once, and say I come
from Mr. Sidebotham on the matter Mr. Garvey wrote about."
The man took the card, and the face vanished into the darkness,
leaving Shorthouse standing in the cold porch with mingled feelings
of impatience an
