re gravely: "I may even say--because
you do."

When Mr Vladimir ceased speaking the Assistant Commissioner lowered his
glance, and the conversation dropped. Almost immediately afterwards Mr
Vladimir took leave.

Directly his back was turned on the couch the Assistant Commissioner rose
too.

"I thought you were going to stay and take Annie home," said the lady
patroness of Michaelis.

"I find that I've yet a little work to do to-night."

"In connection--?"

"Well, yes--in a way."

"Tell me, what is it really--this horror?"

"It's difficult to say what it is, but it may yet be a _cause celebre_,"
said the Assistant Commissioner.

He left the drawing-room hurriedly, and found Mr Vladimir still in the
hall, wrapping up his throat carefully in a large silk handkerchief.
Behind him a footman waited, holding his overcoat. Another stood ready
to open the door. The Assistant Commissioner was duly helped into his
coat, and let out at once. After descending the front steps he stopped,
as if to consider the way he should take. On seeing this through the
door held open, Mr Vladimir lingered in the hall to get out a cigar and
asked for a light. It was furnished to him by an elderly man out of
livery with an air of calm solicitude. But the match went out; the
footman then closed the door, and Mr Vladimir lighted his large Havana
with leisurely care.

When at last he got out of the house, he saw with disgust the "confounded
policeman" still standing on the pavement.

"Can he be waiting for me," thought Mr Vladimir, looking up and down for
some signs of a hansom. He saw none. A couple of carriages waited by
the curbstone, their lamps blazing steadily, the horses standing
perfectly still, as if carved in stone, the coachmen sitting motionless
under the big fur capes, without as much as a quiver stirring the white
thongs of their big whips. Mr Vladimir walked on, and the "confounded
policeman" fell into step at his elbow. He said nothing. At the end of
the fourth stride Mr Vladimir felt infuriated and uneasy. This could not
last.

"Rotten weather," he growled savagely.

"Mild," said the Assistant Commissioner without passion. He remained
silent for a little while. "We've got hold of a man called Verloc," he
announced casually.

Mr Vladimir did not stumble, did not stagger back, did not change his
stride. But he could not prevent himself from exclaiming: "What?" The
Assistant Commissioner did not repeat