Von Holzen pushed open a door that stood ajar at the head of the stair,
and went slowly into the room, preceded by a puff of smoke. The place
was not full of furniture, properly speaking, although it was littered
with many household effects which had no business in a bedroom. It was,
indeed, used as a storehouse for such wares as the proprietor of the
shop only offered to a chosen few. The atmosphere of the room must have
been a very Tower of Babel, where strange foreign bacilli from all
parts of the world rose up and wrangled in the air.

Upon a sham Empire table, _tres antique_, near the window, stood three
water-jugs and a glass of imitation Venetian work. A yellow hand
stretching from a dark heap of bedclothes clutched the glass and held
it out, empty, when Von Holzen came into the room.

"I have sent for milk," said the professor, smoking hard, and heedful
not to look too closely into the dark corner where the bed was
situated.

"You are kind," said a voice, and it was impossible to guess whether
its tone was sarcastic or grateful.

Von Holzen looked at the empty water-jugs with a smile, and shrugged
his shoulders. His intention had perhaps been a kind one. A bad mouth
usually indicates a soft heart.

"It is because you have something to gain," said the hollow voice from
the bed.

"I have something to gain, but I can do without it," replied Von