, "straight on. And don't you forget it!"

He stood and watched me on my way. Nor did I dare to turn aside until
well clear of the square. At the crossing of Davies and Grosvenor
Streets, however, I supposed myself safe, and halted for a moment.

From the shadow of a porch at my elbow a thin voice accosted me.

"Kind gentleman--"

"Heh?" I spun round on her sharply: for it was a woman, stretching out
one skinny hand and gathering her rags together with the other.

"Kind gentleman, spare a copper. I've known better days--I have
indeed."

"Well," said I, "as it happens, I'm in the same case. And they couldn't
be much worse, could they?"

She drew a shuddering breath back through her teeth, but still held out
her hand. I felt for my last coin, and her fingers closed on it so
sharply that their long nails scraped the back of mine.

"Kind gentleman--"

"Ay, they are kind, are they not?"

She stared at me, and in a nerveless tone let one horrible oath escape
her.

"There'll be one less before morning," said I, "if that's any
consolation to you. Good night!" Setting off at a shuffling run, I
doubled back along Grosvenor Street and Bond Street to the point where I
hoped to pick up the trail again. And just there, at the issue of
Bruton Street, two constables stood ready for me.

"I thought as much," said the one who set me on my way. "Hi, you!
Wait a moment, please;" then to the other, "Best turn his pockets out,
Jim."

"If you dare to try--" I began, with my hand in my pocket: the next
moment I found myself sprawling face downward on the sharp crust of
snow.

"Hullo, constables!" said a voice. "What's the row?" It was Gervase.
He had turned leisurely back from the slope of Conduit Street, and came
strolling down the road with his hands in his pockets.

"This fellow, Sir--we have reason to think he was followin' you."

"Quite right," Gervase answered cheerfully, "of course he was."

"Oh, if you knew it, Sir--"

"Certainly I knew it. In fact, he was following at my invitation."

"What for did he tell me a lie, then?" grumbled the constable,
chapfallen.

I had picked myself up by this time and was wiping my face.
"Look here," I put in, "I asked you the way to Oxford Street, that and
nothing else." And I went on to summarise my opinion of him.

"Oh! it's you can swear a bit," he growled. "I heard you just now."

"Yes," Gervase interposed suavely, drawing the glove from his right hand
and