“You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. . “It is a hateful story. “Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. “Come to my rooms and have a drink. "You'll not forget the thousand, Sir Rowland—short accounts, you know. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. And there was another matter. Thames, look the door.
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