He grasped the other's outstretched hand, and with a violent jerk pulled
him into the street. Then he pushed open the door, and, slipping into
the passage, passed hastily into the front room, closely followed by the
infuriated Mr. Mott.

"What--what--what!" stammered that gentleman.

"I'm taking your tip," said Mr. Hurst, pale but determined. "I'm going
to stay here until I have seen Florrie."

"You--you're a serpent," said Mr. Mott, struggling for breath. "I--I'm
surprised at you. You go out before you get hurt."

"Not without the mantelpiece," said Mr. Hurst, with a distorted grin.

"A viper!" said Mr. Mott, with extreme bitterness. "If you are not out
in two minutes I'll send for the police."

"Florrie wouldn't like that," said Mr. Hurst. "She's awfully particular
about what people think. You just trot upstairs and tell her that a
gentleman wants to see her."

He threw himself into Mr. Mott's own particular easy chair, and, crossing
his knees, turned a deaf ear to the threats of that incensed gentleman.
Not until the latter had left the room did his features reveal the
timorousness of the soul within. Muffled voices sounded from upstairs,
and it was evident that an argument of considerable length was in
progress. It was also evident from the return of Mr. Mott alone that his
niece had had the best of it.