into the street. A short distance beyond the house, I saw, dimly,
the woman's form. She had only just passed in her movement to and
fro. Glancing up at the window, which I now knew to be the one in
Green's room, light through the torn curtain was plainly visible.
Back into the house I went, and up to No. 11. This time I knocked
imperatively; and this time made myself heard.

"What's wanted?" came from within. I knew the voice to be that of
Harvey Green.

I only knocked louder. A hurried movement and the low murmur of
voices was heard for some moments; then the door was unlocked and
held partly open by Green, whose body so filled the narrow
aperture that I could not look into the room. Seeing me, a dark
scowl fell upon his countenance.

"What d'ye want?" he inquired, sharply.

"Is Mr. Hammond here? If so, he is wanted downstairs."

"No, he's not," was the quick answer. "What sent you here for him,
hey?"

"The fact that I expected to find him in your room," was my firm
answer.

Green was about shutting the door in my face, when some one placed
a hand on his shoulder, and said something to him that I could not
hear.