Mr. Parker smiled.

"Seems as though that double were all right," he said. "I am halfway
through my dinner, as you can see, and I'm a slow eater--especially in
pleasant company. Shake hands with my friend--Mr. Paul Walmsley, Mr.
Cullen."

My surprise at hearing my own name correctly given was only equaled by the
admiration I also felt for my companion's complete and absolute assurance.
Mr. Cullen and I exchanged a perfunctory handshake, which left me without
any change in my feelings toward him.

"Another of my mistakes, I suppose," Mr. Cullen said quietly. "I am afraid
on this occasion, however, that I must trouble you, Mr. Parker. An affair
of a few moments only. I won't even suggest Bow Street--at present. If you
could take a stroll with me--even into Luigi's office would do."

Mr. Parker put down his knife and fork with a little gesture of
irritation. His broad, good-natured face was for the moment clouded. "Say,
Cullen," he remonstrated, "don't you think you're carrying this a bit too
far, you know? There isn't a man I enjoy a half-hour's chat with more than
you; but in the middle of dinner--dinner with a friend too--"

"I try to do my duty," Mr. Cullen interrupted, "and I am afraid that I am
not at liberty to study your comfort."

Mr. Parker sighed heavily.

"Do you mind, Walmsley, having my plate kept warm and reminding the man