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Updated: May 4, 2025
I'll brew you tea or cocoa." "I never take those things with meals, Beecot." "Your kit assures me of that. Champagne's more in your line. I say, Grexon, what are you doing now?" "What other West-End men do," said Grexon, attacking a sausage. "That means nothing. Well, you never did work at Torrington, so how can I expect the leopard to change his saucy spots."
"Well, the first thing I clapped eyes on was a portrait of Grexon Hay in a silver frame on the mantelpiece." "Hum," said Hurd, nursing his chin in his hand, "he may have given that to Miss Krill during the engagement." "I daresay," rejoined the actress, tartly, "for he has been engaged for many a long day say two years." "I thought so," said Hurd, triumphantly.
"Well," said Beecot, impulsively telling the whole of the misfortune that had befallen him, "that is the wife and that is the daughter of Aaron Norman, alias Krill. The daughter inherits five thousand a year, so marry her and be happy." "But your Dulcinea?" asked Grexon, dropping his eye-glass in amazement. "She has me and poverty," said Paul, turning away.
I come round here lots, and a swell come too, a cold " "Grexon Hay," said Hurd, pointing to the photograph. "Yes. That's him," said Jessop, staring, "and I hated him just, with his eye-glass and his sneerin' ways. He loved the kid, now a growed, fine gal, as you know, and come here often. In June at the end of it anyhow he comes and I hears him tells Mrs.
Recognizing that it would be wise not to follow her to the shop lest the suspicious old man should be looking out, Beecot went on his homeward way. When he drew near his Bloomsbury garret he met Grexon Hay, who was sauntering along swinging his cane.
Here Paul paused to think. The incident of the working man and the warning he had given about Hay recurred to his mind. Also the phrase "Man on the Market" stuck in his memory. Why should Grexon Hay be called so, and what did the phrase mean? Paul had never heard it before. Moreover, from certain indications Beecot did not think that the individual with the bag of tools was a working man.
His eyes fell on a respectable man across the road, who appeared to be a workman, as he had a bag of tools on his shoulder. He was looking into a shop window, but also as Paul suddenly thought seemed to be observing him and Hay. However, the incident was not worth noticing, so he continued his speech to Grexon. "I tried to pawn it with Aaron Norman," he said.
The story of the little bill was absurd, for if Grexon owed the man money the man himself would certainly have known the name and address of his creditor. Altogether, the incident puzzled Paul almost as much as that of Aaron's fainting, and he resolved to question Grexon.
And since you and this boy pulled me from under the wheels of the motor," said Paul, glancing from one to the other, "I should like to know what became of the brooch." "I'm sure I don't know," said Grexon, quietly. "We talked of this before. I gave it as my opinion, if you remember, that it was picked up in the street by the late Aaron Norman and was used to seal his mouth.
But Paul, with a clean conscience, turned slowly, and gazed without recognition into the clean-shaven, calm, cold face that confronted his inquiring eyes. "Beecot!" said the newcomer, taking rapid stock of Paul's shabby serge suit and worn looks. "I thought I was right." The voice, if not the face, awoke old memories. "Hay Grexon Hay!" cried the struggling genius.
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