drawing just a little aside to let them pass, but not far enough to
prevent the light from the passage showing up his ill-favored
countenance.

"Well, good-bye, Dr. Arkroyd. I'll see how he is to-morrow, and ask
you to be kind enough to call again, if it seems advisable. And a
thousand thanks."

"Good-night, Mr. Beaumaroy."

She started the car. Beaumaroy walked back to the hall door. Mary glanced
behind her once, and saw him standing by it, again framed by the light
behind him, as she had seen him on her arrival. But, this time, within
the four corners of the same frame was included the forbidding visage of
Sergeant Hooper.

Beaumaroy returned to the fire in the parlor; Hooper, leaving his bicycle
in the passage, followed him into the room and put the medicine bottle
on the table. Smiling at him, Beaumaroy pointed at the combination
knife-and-fork.

"Is it your fault or mine that that damned thing's lying there?" he
asked.

"Yours," answered the Sergeant without hesitation and with his habitual
surliness. "I cleaned it and put it out for you to lock away, as usual.
Suppose you went and forgot it, sir!"

Beaumaroy shook his head in self-condemnation and a humorous dismay.
"That's it! I went and forgot it, Sergeant. And I think, I rather think,