ob, he rose from his crouching over
the desk, wiped his face with a wet towel, smoothed his hair, put
straight his turn-over collar and smart tie, and went to his work
with glowing eyes and cheeks; resolved to show Miss Warren that she
had not thought too highly of him.

Nevertheless, when Miss Mullet arrived and giggled over the details
of her trousseau and Lily Steynes discussed the advertisements of
Aylesbury ducks in the current _Exchange and Mart_, he was reserved
and rather sarcastic with them both. He intimated later that he had
long been aware of the coming displacements; but he said not a word
of Vivie's letter.

CHAPTER IV

PONTYSTRAD

On a morning in mid-July, 1901, Mr. D.V. Williams bicycled to
Paddington Station from New Square, Lincoln's Inn. The brown canvas
case fitted to the frame of his male bicycle contained a change of
clothes, a suit of paijamas, a safety razor, tooth-brush, hair-brush
and comb. He himself was wearing a well-cut dark grey suit--Norfolk
jacket, knickerbockers and thick stockings.

Having had his bicycle labelled "Swansea," he entered a first-class
compartment of the South Wales express. Though not lavish on his
expenditure he was travelling first because he still felt a little
uneasy in the presence of men--mostly men of the rougher type.
Perhaps there was a second class in those days; there may be still.
But I have a distinct impression that Mr. Vavasour Williams, law
student, travelled "first" on this occasion: for this was how
he met a person of whom his friend, Honoria Fraser, had often
spoken--Michael Rossiter.

He did not of course--till after they had passed Swindon--know the
name of his travelling companion. Five minutes before the train left
Paddington there entered his compartment of the corridor carriage a
tall man with a short, curly black beard and nice eyes--eyes like
agates in colour. There was a touch of grey about the temples,
otherwise the head hair, when he changed from a hard felt hat to a
soft travelling cap, showed as dark as the beard and moustache. His
frame was strong, muscular and loosely built, and he had clever,
nervous hands with fingers somewhat spatulate. His clothes did not
much suggest the tourist--they seemed more like a too well-worn town
morning suit of dark blue serge; as though he had left home in an
absent-minded mood intent on some hurriedly conceived plan. He cast
one or two quick glances at David; once, indeed, as they got ou