"Yes, I worked hard," replied Thorndyke, "and I work hard still; but I
have my hours of labour and my hours of leisure, unlike you poor devils
of general practitioners, who are liable to be dragged away from the
dinner table or roused out of your first sleep by--confound it all! who
can that be?"

For at this moment, as a sort of commentary on his self-congratulation,
there came a smart rapping at the outer door.

"Must see who it is, I suppose," he continued, "though one expects
people to accept the hint of a closed oak."

He strode across the room and flung open the door with an air of by no
means gracious inquiry.

"It's rather late for a business call," said an apologetic voice
outside, "but my client was anxious to see you without delay."

"Come in, Mr. Lawley," said Thorndyke, rather stiffly, and, as he held
the door open, the two visitors entered. They were both men--one
middle-aged, rather foxy in appearance and of a typically legal aspect,
and the other a fine, handsome young fellow of very prepossessing
exterior, though at present rather pale and wild-looking, and evidently
in a state of profound agitation.

"I am afraid," said the latter, with a glance at me and the dinner
table, "that our visit--for which I am alone responsible--is a most
unseasonable one. If we are really inconveniencing you, Dr. Thorndyke,
pray tell us, and my business must wait."