in regard to Sir Mark's will; this done, a considerable change
in affairs was inevitable. In consequence of the information, Gertie
could not avoid looking about her in the vague hope of encountering
Henry; she wanted to see him, although she knew a meeting would only
disturb and confuse. She waited outside the street door after business
was over, gazing up and down before making a start for home, and it
occurred frequently that a short man of middle age moved a few steps
towards her, and stopped; later, in turning out of Portland Place, she
observed he was following. Once he came so close that she expected to
hear a whining voice complain of space of time since the last meal, and
having the superstition that casual charity appeased the gods, she
found some coppers; but he fell back, and did not speak. It was at the
close of a trying day when the representative of a firm had called, in
Madame's absence, to have what he described in a preface as a jolly,
thundering good row, which finished by an endeavour on his part to
indicate apology by stroking Miss Higham's hand--on this night, Gertie,
less composed than usual, again caught sight, in crossing Great
Portland Street, of the short man. He turned. She, also turning, met
him in the centre of the roadway.

"Do you want to speak to me?" she demanded sharply.

"Not specially," he answered, in a husky voice.

"Then why do you so often follow me about?"

"I hope I don't cause you any ill convenience; if so be as I do, I'll
stop it at once."

"That's all right," said Gertie, impressed by his deferential manner.
"Only it seemed to me rather odd. And just now my nerves are somewhat
jerky." He touched his cap, and was shuffling off, when she recalled
him. "Stroll along with me, and let's have a talk. What do you do for
a living?"

"Sure you don't mind being seen with me?" he asked.

"We'll go up Great Portland Street, and you can say 'good-bye' when we
reach the underground station."

He buttoned his well-worn frock coat, gave himself a brisk punch on the
chest, and with every indication of pride, accompanied her, keeping,
however, slightly to the rear. Gertie repeated her question, and he
replied it was not easy to explain how he gained a livelihood; odd
jobs, was perhaps the best answer he could give. Warning her not to be
frightened, he gave the information that he had spent fifteen years of
his life in prison. Did he begin young, then? No, that was the