the house agent's window, for instance, set him upon a charming
little comedy. He would go in, make inquires about that
thirty-pound house, get the key possibly and go over it--the
thing would stimulate the clerk's curiosity immensely. He
searched his mind for a reason for this proceeding and discovered
that he was a dynamiter needing privacy. Upon that theory he
procured the key, explored the house carefully, said darkly that
it might suit his special needs, but that there were OTHERS to
consult. The clerk, however, did not understand the allusion, and
merely pitied him as one who had married young and paired himself
to a stronger mind than his own.

This proceeding in some occult way led to the purchase of a
note-book and pencil, and that started the conception of an
artist taking notes. That was a little game Mr. Hoopdriver had,
in congenial company, played in his still younger days--to the
infinite annoyance of quite a number of respectable excursionists
at Hastings. In early days Mr. Hoopdriver had been, as his mother
proudly boasted, a 'bit of a drawer,' but a conscientious and
normally stupid schoolmaster perceived the incipient talent and
had nipped it in the bud by a series of lessons in art. However,
our principal character figured about quite happily in old
corners of Guildford, and once the other man in brown, looking
out of the bay window of the Earl of Kent, saw him standing in a
corner by a gateway, note-book in hand, busily sketching the
Earl's imposing features. At which sight the other man in brown
started back from the centre of the window, so as to be hidden
from him, and crouching slightly, watched him intently through
the interstices of the lace curtains.