which I had bought by way of setting the coping-stone on my night's
extravagance, before he got up from his writing.

"Those fellows," he said, producing a bottle of whisky and a syphon
from one of the lower drawers of the wardrobe, "did me a double
service. They introduced me to you--say when--and they gave me----"

"When."

"--an idea."

"But how did it happen?" I asked.

"Quite simple," he answered. "You see, my friends, when they call on me
late at night, can't get in by knocking at the front door. It is a
shop-door, and is locked early. Vancott, my landlord, is a baker, and,
as he has to be up making muffins somewhere about five in the
morning--we all have our troubles--he does not stop up late. So people
who want me go into the court, and see whether my lamp is burning by
the window. If it is, they stand below and shout, 'Julian,' till I open
the door into the court. That's what happened tonight. I heard my name
called, went down, and walked into the arms of the enterprising
gentlemen whom you chanced to notice. They must have been very hungry,
for even if they had carried the job through they could not have
expected to make their fortunes. In point of fact, they would have
cleared one-and-threepence. But when you're hungry you can see no
further than the pit of your stomach. Do you know, I almost sympathise
with the poor brutes. People sometimes say to me, 'What are you?' I
have often half a mind to reply, 'I have been hungry.' My stars, be
hungry once, and you're educated, if you don't die of it, for a