for myself for that space, sir," said the other,
gruffly, and turned to the window; while Jekyl, disappearing behind the
drapery that filled the doorway, was heard humming an opera air from
within.

Grounsell was in no superlative mood of good temper with the world, nor
would he have extended to the section of it he best knew the well-known
eulogy on the "Bayards." "Swindlers," "Rakes," and "Vagabonds" were
about the mildest terms of the vocabulary he kept muttering to himself,
while a grumbling thunder-growl of malediction followed each. The very
aspect of the little chamber seemed to offer food for his anger; the
pretentious style of its decoration jarred and irritated him, and he
felt a wish to smash bronzes and brackets and statues into one common
ruin.

The very visiting-cards which lay scattered over a Sevres dish offended
him; the names of all that were most distinguished in rank and station,
with here and there some little civility inscribed on the corner,
----"Thanks," "Come, if possible," or "Of course we expect
you,"--showing the social request in which Jekyl stood.

"Ay," muttered he to himself, "here is one that can neither give dinners
nor balls, get places nor pensions nor orders, lend money nor lose
it, and yet the world wants him, and cannot get on without him. The
indolence of profligacy seeks the aid of his stimulating activity, and
the palled appetite of sensualism has to borrow the relish from vice
that gives all its piquancy. Without him as the fly-wheel, the whole
machinery of mischief would stand still. His boast is, that, without a
sou, no millionnaire is richer than he, and that every boon of fortune
is at his beck. He might add, that in his comprehensive view of
wickedness he realizes within himself all the vice of this good capital.
I 'd send such a fellow to the treadmill; I 'd transport him for life;
I 'd sentence him to hunt kangaroos for the rest of his days; I'd--" He
stopped short in his violent tirade; for he suddenly bethought him how
he himself was at that very moment seeking aid and assistance at his
hands; and somewhat abashed by the recollection, he called out, "Mr.
Jekyl, are you ready yet?"

No answer was returned to this question, and Grounsell repeated it in a
louder voice. All was silent, and not even the dulcet sounds of the
air from "Lucia" broke the stillness; and now the doctor, losing all
patience, drew aside the curtain and looked in. The chamber was empty,
and Je