the collar and wristbands were rather
larger and longer than suited the small dimensions of the man.
He wore a white greatcoat tight buttoned round his waist, but so
arranged as to show the glories of the coloured handkerchief; and
in his hand he carried a diminutive cane with a little silver knob.
He stepped airily into the room, and as he did so he addressed our
friend the policeman with much cordiality. "My dear Mr. 'Oward," he
said, "this is a pleasure. This is a pleasure. This is a pleasure."

"What is it to be?" asked Gager.

"Well;--ay, what? Shall I say a little port wine negus, with the
nutmeg in it rayther strong?" This suggestion he made to a young
lady from the bar, who had followed him into the room. The negus was
brought and paid for by Gager, who then requested that they might be
left there undisturbed for five minutes. The young lady promised to
do her best, and then closed the door. "And now, Mr. 'Oward, what can
I do for you?" said Mr. Cann, the burglar.

Gager, before he answered, took a pipe-case out of his pocket, and
lit the pipe. "Will you smoke, Billy?" said he.

"Well;--no, I don't know that I will smoke. A very little tobacco
goes a long way with me, Mr. 'Oward. One cigar before I turn
in;--that's about the outside of it. You see, Mr. 'Oward, pleasures
should never be made necessities, when the circumstances of a
gentleman's life may perhaps require that they shall be abandoned for
prolonged periods. In your line of life, Mr. 'Oward,--which has its
objections,--smoking may be pretty well a certainty." Mr. Cann, as
he made these remarks, skipped about the room, and gave point to his
argument by touching Mr. Howard's waistcoat with the end of his cane.

"And now, Billy, how about the young woman?"

"I haven't set eyes on her these six weeks, Mr. 'Oward. I never see
her but once in my life, Mr. 'Oward;--or, maybe, twice, for one's
memory is deceitful; and I don't know that I ever wish to see her
again. She ain't one of my sort, Mr. 'Oward. I likes 'em soft, and
sweet, and coming. This one,--she has her good p'ints about her,--as
clean a foot and ankle as I'd wish to see;--but, laws, what a nose,
Mr. 'Oward! And then for manner;--she's no more manner than a stable
dog."

"She's in London, Billy?"

"How am I to know, Mr. 'Oward?"

"What's the good, then, of your coming here?" asked Gager, with no
little severity in his voice.

"I don't know as it is good. I 'aven't said nothing about a