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He laughed a little to himself light-heartedly, and gained the street door with unnecessary, heedless speed gained it on the moment that another pedestrian, moving swiftly as himself, entered, bringing him to a sharp consciousness of the moment. Incomer and outgoer each drew back a step, each laughed, each tendered an apology. "Pardon, monsieur!" "Pardon, mademoiselle!"

And in New Place a slack dishonoured body that once was comely, once as sweet, as fresh as cinnamon, now her leaves falling, all, bare, frighted of the narrow grave and unforgiven. Yes. So you think... The door closed behind the outgoer. Rest suddenly possessed the discreet vaulted cell, rest of warm and brooding air. A vestal's lamp.

The hallway was rather dark as the incomer and outgoer passed each other; but, the servant at that instant lighting the gas, Turl glanced around for a better look, and encountered the other's glance at the same time turned after himself. Each halted, Turl for a scarce perceptible instant, the other for a moment longer.

This also opened the lodgings to him. He was presently installed in the large and small front-rooms up-stairs, unpacking his traps, and making himself permanently at home. Superintendent Whiffler came over, by-and-by, to see his successor. He did not like his looks. The new man should have looked mean or weak or rascally, to suit the outgoer.