the benedictine majority and set up a home for yourself."

"That is very handsome of you," said I. "You didn't mention that the
billet you offered was a resident appointment."

"Rooms and commons included," said Thorndyke; and when I protested that
I should at least contribute to the costs of living he impatiently
waved the suggestion away. We were still arguing the question when we
reached our chambers--as I will now call them--and a diversion was
occasioned by my taking the lamp from my pocket and placing it on the
table.

"Ah," my colleague remarked, "that is a little reminder. We will put it
on the mantelpiece for Polton to collect and you shall give me a full
account of your further adventures in the wilds of Kennington. That was
a very odd affair. I have often wondered how it ended."

He drew our two arm-chairs up to the fire, put on some more coal, placed
the tobacco jar on the table exactly equidistant from the two chairs,
and settled himself with the air of a man who is anticipating an
agreeable entertainment.

I filled my pipe, and, taking up the thread of the story where I had
broken off on the last occasion, began to outline my later experiences.
But he brought me up short.

"Don't be sketchy, Jervis. To be sketchy is to be vague. Detail, my
child, detail is the soul of induction. Let us have all the facts. We
can sort them out afterwards."