He saw that the puce dressing-gown contained a man who was at the end of
his tether, and with that good nature of his which no hardships had been
able to destroy, he offered to attend to the preliminary formalities.
Then he went.


_A Month's Wages_


Priam Farll had no intention of falling asleep; his desire was to
consider the position which he had so rashly created for himself; but he
did fall asleep--and in the hard chair! He was awakened by a tremendous
clatter, as if the house was being bombarded and there were bricks
falling about his ears. When he regained all his senses this bombardment
resolved itself into nothing but a loud and continued assault on the
front door. He rose, and saw a frowsy, dishevelled, puce-coloured figure
in the dirty mirror over the fireplace. And then, with stiff limbs, he
directed his sleepy feet towards the door.

Dr. Cashmore was at the door, and still another man of fifty, a
stern-set, blue-chinned, stoutish person in deep and perfect mourning,
including black gloves.

This person gazed coldly at Priam Farll.

"Ah!" ejaculated the mourner.

And stepped in, followed by Dr. Cashmore.