Again I noted the wonder; his manner was cautious and curious. I
nodded.

"Want to buy it or just lease it? Pardon me, but you are sort of a
friend. I would not like to lose your friendship for the sake of a
mere sale. What is your--"

"Just for a residence," I insisted. "A place to live in."

"I see. Know anything about this place?"

"Do you?"

He fumbled with some papers. For an agent he did not strike me as
being very solicitous for a commission.

"Well," he said, "in a way, yes. A whole lot more than I'd like
to. It all depends. One gets much from hearsay. What I know is
mostly rumour." He began marking with a pencil. "Of course I don't
believe it. Nevertheless I would hardly recommend it to a friend
as a residence."

"And these rumours?"

He looked up; for a moment he studied; then:

"Ever hear of the Blind Spot? Perhaps you remember Dr. Holcomb--in
1905, before the 'quake. It was a murder. The papers were full of
it at the time; since then it has been occasionally featured in
the supplements. I do not believe in the story; but I can trust to