"This is just what I have been looking for." He walked with long,
eager strides towards the gas stove. "First-rate--quite first-rate!
Exactly what I wanted to find! You must understand, Mrs.--er--
Bunting, that I am a man of science. I make, that is, all sorts of
experiments, and I often require the--ah, well, the presence of
great heat."

He shot out a hand, which she noticed shook a little, towards the
stove. "This, too, will be useful--exceedingly useful, to me," and
he touched the edge of the stone sink with a lingering, caressing
touch.

He threw his head back and passed his hand over his high, bare
forehead; then, moving towards a chair, he sat down--wearily.
"I'm tired," he muttered in a low voice, "tired--tired! I've been
walking about all day, Mrs. Bunting, and I could find nothing to sit
down upon. They do not put benches for tired men in the London
streets. They do so on the Continent. In some ways they are far
more humane on the Continent than they are in England, Mrs. Bunting."

"Indeed, sir," she said civilly; and then, after a nervous glance,
she asked the question of which the answer would mean so much to her,
"Then you mean to take my rooms, sir?"

"This room, certainly," he said, looking round. "This room is
exactly what I have been looking for, and longing for, the last
few days;" and then hastily he added, "I mean this kind of place
is what I have always wanted to possess, Mrs. Bunting. You would
be surprised if you knew how difficult it is to get anything of