narrow bag in his left hand. It was quite a new bag, made of strong
brown leather.

"I am looking for some quiet rooms," he said; then he repeated the
words, "quiet rooms," in a dreamy, absent way, and as he uttered
them he looked nervously round him.

Then his sallow face brightened, for the hall had been carefully
furnished, and was very clean.

There was a neat hat-and-umbrella stand, and the stranger's weary
feet fell soft on a good, serviceable dark-red drugget, which
matched in colour the flock-paper on the walls.

A very superior lodging-house this, and evidently a superior
lodging-house keeper.

"You'd find my rooms quite quiet, sir," she said gently. "And just
now I have four to let. The house is empty, save for my husband
and me, sir."

Mrs. Bunting spoke in a civil, passionless voice. It seemed too
good to be true, this sudden coming of a possible lodger, and of a
lodger who spoke in the pleasant, courteous way and voice which
recalled to the poor woman her happy, far-off days of youth and
of security.

"That sounds very suitable," he said. "Four rooms? Well, perhaps
I ought only to take two rooms, but, still, I should like to see
all four before I make my choice."