ubt, by the similarity of
Stephen's remarks to those of mine which he had so recently criticized.

"A man of science, Mr. Blackmore," he said, "expects nothing. He
collects facts and keeps an open mind. As to me, I am a mere legal
Autolycus, a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles of evidence. When I have
accumulated a few facts, I arrange them, compare them and think about
them. Sometimes the comparison yields new matter and sometimes it
doesn't; but in any case, believe me, it is a capital error to decide
beforehand what data are to be sought for."

"Yes, I suppose that is so," said Stephen; "though, to me, it almost
looks as if Mr. Marchmont was right; that there is nothing to
investigate."

"You should have thought of that before you consulted me," laughed
Thorndyke. "As it is, I am engaged to look into the case and I shall do
so; and, as I have said, I shall keep an open mind until I have all the
facts in my possession."

He glanced round the sitting-room, which we had now entered, and
continued:

"These are fine, dignified old rooms. It seems a sin to have covered up
all this oak panelling and that carved cornice and mantel with paint.
Think what it must have been like when the beautiful figured wood was
exposed."

"It would be very dark," Stephen observed.

"Yes," Thorndyke agreed, "and I suppose we care more for light and less
for beauty than our ancestors did. But now, tell me; looking round these
rooms, do they convey to you a similar impression to that which the old
rooms did? Have they the same general character?"

"Not quite, I think. Of course the rooms in Jermyn Street were in a
different kind of house, but beyond that, I seem to feel a certain
difference; which is rather odd, seeing that the furniture is the same.
But the old rooms were more cosy, more homelike. I find something rather
bare and cheerless, I was almost going to say squalid, in the look of
these chambers."

"That is rather what I should have expected," said Thorndyke. "The opium
habit alters a man's character profoundly; and, somehow, apart from the
mere furnishing, a room reflects in some subtle way, but very
distinctly, the personality of its occupant, especially when that
occupant lives a solitary life. Do you see any evidences of the
activities that used to occupy your uncle?"

"Not very much," replied Stephen. "But the place may not be quite as he
left it. I found one or two of his books on the table and put them back
in th