"Hang it all!" cried Gray irritably. "Why the devil don't you look
where you're going!"

He glared angrily into the face of the other. It was a peculiar and
rememberable face, notable because of a long, sharp, hooked nose and
very little, foxy, brown eyes; a sly face to which a small, fair
moustache only added insignificance. It was crowned by a wide-brimmed
bowler hat which the man wore pressed down upon his ears like a Jew
pedlar.

"Why!" cried Gray, "this is the second time tonight you have jostled
me!"

He thought he had recognized the man for the same who had been
following himself, Mrs. Irvin and Sir Lucien Pyne along old Bond
Street.

A smile, intended to be propitiatory, appeared upon the pale face.

"No, sir, excuse me, sir--"

"Don't deny it!" said Gray angrily. "If I had the time I should give
you in charge as a suspicious loiterer."

Calling to the cabman to wait, he ran up the stairs to the second
floor landing. Before the painted door bearing the name of Kazmah he
halted, and as the door did not open, stamped impatiently, but with no
better result.