seconds while he fumbled for his key, and then, humming unconcernedly,
hung his hat in the passage and walked into the parlour.

The astonished scream of his wife warned him that Mr. Mills had by no
means exaggerated. She rose from her seat and, crouching by the
fireplace, regarded him with a mixture of anger and dismay.

"It--it's all right, Milly," said Mr. Simpson, with a smile that
revealed a dazzling set of teeth.

"Who are you?" demanded Mrs. Simpson. "How dare you call me by my
Christian name. It's a good job for you my husband is not here."

"He wouldn't hurt me," said Mr. Simpson, with an attempt at
facetiousness. "He's the best friend I ever had. Why, we slept in the
same cradle."

"I don't want any of your nonsense," said Mrs. Simpson. "You get out of
my house before I send for the police. How dare you come into a
respectable woman's house in this fashion? Be off with you."

"Now, look here, Milly----" began Mr. Simpson.

His wife drew herself up to her full height of four feet eleven.

"I've had a hair-cut and a shave," pursued her husband; "also I've had
my hair restored to its natural colour. But I'm the same man, and you
know it."

"I know nothing of the kind," said his wife, doggedly. "I don't know