I was about to write to you was uppermost in my mind and, having
quickly dined, I hurried back to my rooms. I remember clearly that,
as I stood in the street before our house fumbling for my keys,
Big Ben on the Parliament Buildings struck the hour of seven.
The chime of the great bell rang out in our peaceful thoroughfare
like a loud and friendly greeting.

Gaining my study, I sat down at once to write. Over my head I
could hear Captain Fraser-Freer moving about--attiring himself,
probably, for dinner. I was thinking, with an amused smile, how
horrified he would be if he knew that the crude American below him
had dined at the impossible hour of six, when suddenly I heard, in
that room above me, some stranger talking in a harsh determined
tone. Then came the captain's answering voice, calmer, more
dignified. This conversation went along for some time, growing
each moment more excited. Though I could not distinguish a word of
it, I had the uncomfortable feeling that there was a controversy on;
and I remember feeling annoyed that any one should thus interfere
with my composition of your letter, which I regarded as most
important, you may be sure.

At the end of five minutes of argument there came the heavy
thump-thump of men struggling above me. It recalled my college
days, when we used to hear the fellows in the room above us throwing
each other about in an excess of youth and high spirits. But this
seemed more grim, more determined, and I did not like it.--However,
I reflected that it was none of my business. I tried to think about
my letter.

The struggle ended with a particularly heavy thud that shook our