rote on ceaselessly.

An odd figure of a man was this popular novelist, with patchy and
untidy hair which lessened the otherwise striking contour of his brow.
A neglected and unpicturesque figure, in a baggy, neutral-colored
dressing-gown; a figure more fitted to a garret than to this spacious,
luxurious workroom, with the soft light playing upon rank after rank
of rare and costly editions, deepening the tones in the Persian carpet,
making red morocco more red, purifying the vellum and regilding the
gold of the choice bindings, caressing lovingly the busts and statuettes
surmounting the book-shelves, and twinkling upon the scantily-covered
crown of Henry Leroux. The door bell rang.

Leroux, heedless of external matters, pursued his work. But the door
bell rang again and continued to ring.

"Soames! Soames!" Leroux raised his voice irascibly, continuing to write
the while. "Where the devil are you! Can't you hear the door bell?"

Soames did not reveal himself; and to the ringing of the bell was added
the unmistakable rattling of a letter-box.

"Soames!" Leroux put down his pen and stood up. "Damn it! he's out! I
have no memory!"

He retied the girdle of his dressing-gown, which had become unfastened,
and opened the study door. Opposite, across the entrance lobby, was
the outer door; and in the light from the lobby lamp he perceived two
laughing eyes peering in under the upraised flap of the letter-box. The
ringing ceased.

"Are you VERY angry with me for interrupting you?" cried a girl's voice.

"My dear Miss Cumberly!" said Leroux without irritation; "on the
contrary--er--I am delighted to see you--or rather to hear you. There is
nobody at home, you know."...

"I DO know," replied the girl firmly, "and I know something else, also.
Father assures me that you simply STARVE yourself when Mrs. Leroux is
away! So I have brought down an omelette!"

"Omelette!" muttered Leroux, advancing toward the door; "you
have--er--brought an omelette! I understand--yes; you have brought an
omelette? Er--that is very good of you."

He hesitated when about to open the outer door, raising his hands to his
dishevelled hair and unshaven chin. The flap of the letter-box dropped;
and the girl outside could be heard stifling her laughter.

"You must think me--er--very rude," began Leroux; "I mean--not to open
the door. But"...

"I quite understand," concluded the voice of the unseen one. "You are a
most untidy object! And I shall