o be disturbed by a rudeness.

He thought deeply about that work as the taxi-cab whirled him along; he
was still thinking about it when he walked into the big house in Portman
Square. In there everything was very quiet. The butler was away at
Kensington; the other servants were busily discussing the mystery of
their master in their own regions. No one was aware that Mr. Tertius had
returned, for he let himself into the house with his own latch-key, and
went straight into Herapath's study. There, if possible, everything was
still quieter--the gloom of the dull November morning seemed to be
doubly accentuated in the nooks and corners; there was a sense of
solitude which was well in keeping with Mr. Tertius's knowledge of what
had happened. He looked at the vacant chair in which he had so often
seen Jacob Herapath sitting, hard at work, active, bustling, intent on
getting all he could out of every minute of his working day, and he
sighed deeply.

But in the moment of sighing Mr. Tertius reflected that there was no
time for regret. It was a time--his time--for action; there was a thing
to do which he wanted to do while he had the room to himself. Therefore
he went to work, carefully and methodically. For a second or two he
stood reflectively looking at the supper tray which still stood on the
little table near the desk. With a light, delicate touch he picked up
the glass which had been used and held it up to the light. He put it
down again presently, went quietly out of the study to the dining-room
across the hall, and returned at once with another glass precisely
similar in make and pattern to the one which he had placed aside. Into
that clear glass he poured some whisky, afterwards mixing with it some
soda-water from the syphon--this mixture he poured away into the soil of
a flower-pot which stood in the window. And that done he placed the
second glass on the tray in the place where the first had stood, and
picking up the first, in the same light, gingerly fashion, he went
upstairs to his own rooms at the top of the house.

Five minutes later Mr. Tertius emerged from his rooms. He then carried
in his hand a small, square bag, and he took great care to handle it
very carefully as he went downstairs and into the square. At the corner
of Orchard Street he got another taxi-cab and bade the driver go to
Endsleigh Gardens. And during the drive he took the greatest pains to
nurse the little bag on his knee, thereby preserving