g to a detective's
methods of work. He would as soon have lost his hand as have written an
anonymous letter or deliberately inveigled Logotheti into a trap, and
while he was so carefully concealing himself he longed in reality for
open fight, and felt that he had made himself ridiculous in his own
eyes. Yet he hesitated to put on his own English clothes and go about
as usual, for he had to pass the porter's window on the stairs every
time he went out or came in, and such a sudden change in his appearance
would certainly make the porter suspect that he was engaged in some
nefarious business. Porters are powerful personages in Parisian
lodging-houses, and this one would probably inform the police that he
had a suspicious lodger; after which Lushington would be watched in his
turn and would very probably have trouble. These reflections made him
feel more ridiculous than ever.

Now it very often happens that when a man, even of considerable
intelligence, has made up his mind to do something which at first
seemed very clever, but which, by degrees, turns out to be quite
useless, if not altogether foolish, he perseveres in his course with
mule-like obstinacy. He has taken endless trouble to prepare the means,
he has thought it all out so nicely, only omitting to reach the
conclusion! It would be a pity to go back, it would be useless to
desist, since everything has been so well prepared. Something is sure
to come of it, if he only sticks to his original plan, and any result
must be better than allowing events to go their way.

Therefore, when the clouds that curled up from Lushington's pipe failed
to shape themselves into a vision both wise and prophetic, and left
absolutely no new idea behind when they vanished, he came to the
conclusion that his first scheme was a very good one after all, and
that he had better abide by the square-toed, spring-side boots and the
rest of his admirable disguise, until something happened. Then he would
seize the opportunity and act decisively; he was not at all sure how he
should act, but he secretly hoped that the action in question might be
of the nature of a fight with something or somebody. There are many
quiet and shy men who would really rather fight than do anything else,
though they will rarely admit it, even to themselves.

Returning to his plan of watching Logotheti, Lushington argued rightly
that the trip in the motor car would be repeated the very next time
that Margaret had a r