Brighton, had its headquarters
here and its branch in the metropolis. Mr. Godfrey Mills, so he learned
at the door had dined alone, and was in, and without further delay Mr.
Taynton was carried aloft in the gaudy bird-cage of the lift, feeling
sure that his partner would see him.

The flat into which he was ushered with a smile of welcome from the man
who opened the door was furnished with a sort of gross opulence that
never failed to jar on Mr. Taynton's exquisite taste and cultivated mind.
Pictures, chairs, sofas, the patterns of the carpet, and the heavy
gilding of the cornices were all sensuous, a sort of frangipanni to the
eye. The apparent contrast, however, between these things and their
owner, was as great as that between Mr. Taynton and his partner, for Mr.
Godfrey Mills was a thin, spare, dark little man, brisk in movement, with
a look in his eye that betokened a watchfulness and vigilance of the most
alert order. But useful as such a gift undoubtedly is, it was given to
Mr. Godfrey Mills perhaps a shade too obviously. It would be unlikely
that the stupidest or shallowest person would give himself away when
talking to him, for it was so clear that he was always on the watch for
admission or information that might be useful to him. He had, however,
the charm that a very active and vivid mind always possesses, and though
small and slight, he was a figure that would be noticed anywhere, so keen
and wide-awake was his face. Beside him Mr. Taynton looked like a
benevolent country clergyman, more distinguished for amiable qualities of
the heart, than intellectual qualities of the head. Yet those--there were
not many of them--who in dealings with the latter had tried to conduct
their business on these assumptions, had invariably found it necessary to
reconsider their first impression of him. His partner, however, was
always conscious of a little impatience in talking to him; Taynton, he
would have allowed, did not lack fine business qualities, but he was a
little wanting in quickness.

Mills's welcome of him was abrupt.

"Pleased to see you," he said. "Cigar, drink? Sit down, won't you?
What is it?"

"I dropped in for a chat on my way home," said Mr. Taynton. "I have been
dining with Mrs. Assheton. A most pleasant evening. What a fine delicate
face she has."

Mills bit off the end of a cigar.

"I take it that you did not come in merely to discuss the delicacy of
Mrs. Assheton's face," he said.

"No, no, dea