watched　straddling；　whom；　as　a　little　fellow；　he　had　fagged；　whom　he　had　seen　through　scrapes　at　college；　to　whom　he　had　lent　money　time　and　again；　and　time　and　again　admonished　in　his　courses。　　Larry！　　Five　years　younger　than　himself；　and　committed　to　his　charge　by　their　mother　when　she　died。　　To　become　for　life　one　of　those　men　with　faces　like　diseased　plants；　with　no　hair　but　a　bushy　stubble；　with　arrows　marked　on　their　yellow　clothes！　　Larry！　　One　of　those　men　herded　like　sheep；　at　the　beck　and　call　of　common　men！　　A　gentleman；　his　own　brother；　to　live　that　slave's　life；　to　be　ordered　here　and　there；　year　after　year；　day　in；　day　out。　　Something　snapped　within　him。　　He　could　not　give　that　advice。　　Impossible！　　But　if　not；　he　must　make　sure　of　his　ground；　must　verify；　must　know。　　This　Glove　Lanethis　arch　way？　　It　would　not　be　far　from　where　he　was　that　very　moment。　　He　looked　for　someone　of　whom　to　make　enquiry。　　A　policeman　was　standing　at　the　corner；　his　stolid　face　illumined　by　a　lamp；　capable　and　watchfulan　excellent　officer；　no　doubt；　but；　turning　his　head　away；　Keith　passed　him　without　a　word。　　Strange　to　feel　that　cold；　uneasy　feeling　in　presence　of　the　law！　　A　grim　little　driving　home　of　what　it　all　meant！　　Then；　suddenly；　he　saw　that　the　turning　to　his　left　was　Borrow　Street　itself。　　He　walked　up　one　side；　crossed　over；　and　returned。　　He　passed　Number　Forty…two；　a　small　house　with　business　names　printed　on　the　lifeless　windows　of　the　first　and　second　floors；　with　dark　curtained　windows　on　the　ground　floor；　or　was　there　just　a　slink　of　light　in　one　corner？　　Which　way　had　Larry　turned？　　Which　way　under　that　grisly　burden？　　Fifty　paces　of　this　squalid　street…narrow；　and　dark；　and　empty；　thank　heaven！　　Glove　Lane！　　Here　it　was！　　A　tiny　runlet　of　a　street。　　And　here！　　He　had　run　right　on　to　the　arch；　a　brick　bridge　connecting　two　portions　of　a　warehouse；　and　dark　indeed。
  〃That's　right；　gov'nor！　　That's　the　place！〃　　He　needed　all　his　self…　control　to　turn　leisurely　to　the　speaker。　　〃'Ere's　where　they　found　the　bodyvery　spot　leanin'　up　'ere。　　They　ain't　got　'im　yet。　Lytestme　lord！〃
  It　was　a　ragged　boy　holding　out　a　tattered　yellowish　journal。　　His　lynx　eyes　peered　up　from　under　lanky　wisps　of　hair；　and　his　voice　had　the　proprietary　note　of　one　making　〃a　corner〃　in　his　news。　　Keith　took　the　paper　and　gave　him　twopence。　　He　even　found　a　sort　of　comfort　in　the　young　ghoul's　hanging　about　there；　it　meant　that　others　besides　himself　had　come　morbidly　to　look。　　By　the　dim　lamplight　he　read：　〃Glove　Lane　garrotting　mystery。　　Nothing　has　yet　been　discovered　of　the　murdered　man's　identity；　from　the　cut　of　his　clothes　he　is　supposed　to　be　a　foreigner。〃　　The　boy　had　vanished；　and　Keith　saw　the　figure　of　a　policeman　coming　slowly　down　this　gutter　of　a　street。　　A　second's　hesitation；　and　he　stood　firm。　　Nothing　obviously　could　have　brought　him　here　save　this　〃mystery；〃　and　he　stayed　quietly　staring　at　the　arch。　　The　policeman　moved　up　abreast。　Keith　saw　that　he　was　the　one　whom　he　had　passed　just　now。　　He　noted　the　cold　offensive　question　die　out　of　the　man's　eyes　when　they　caught　the　gleam　of　white　shirt…front　under　the　opened　fur　collar。　And　holding　up　the　paper；　he　said：
  〃Is　this　where　the　man　was　found？〃
  〃Yes；　sir。〃
  〃Still　a　mystery；　I　see？〃
  〃Well；　we　can't　always　go　by　the　papers。　　But　I　don't　fancy　they　do　know　much　about　it；　yet。〃
  〃Dark　spot。　　Do　fellows　sleep　under　here？〃
  The　policeman　nodded。　　〃There's　not　an　arch　in　London　where　we　don't　get　'em　sometimes。〃
  〃Nothing　found　on　himI　think　I　read？〃
  〃Not　a　copper。　　Pockets　inside　out。　　There's　some　funny　characters　about　this　quarter。　　Greeks；　Hitaliansall　sorts。〃
  Queer　sensation　this；　of　being　glad　of　a　policeman's　confidential　tone！
  〃Well；　good…night！〃
  〃Good…night；　sir。　　Good…night！〃
  He　looked　back　from　Borrow　Street。　　The　policeman　was　still　standing　there　holding　up　his　lantern；　so　that　its　light　fell　into　the　archway；　as　if　trying　to　read　its　secret。
  Now　that　he　had　seen　this　dark；　deserted　spot；　the　chances　seemed　to　him　much　better。　　〃Pockets　inside　out！〃　　Either　Larry　had　had　presence　of　mind　to　do　a　very　clever　thing；　or　someone　had　been　at　the　body　before　the　police　found　it。　　That　was　the　more　likely。　　A　dead　backwater　of　a　place。　　At　three　o'clockloneliest　of　all　hours…　…Larry's　five　minutes'　grim　excursion　to　and　fro　might　well　have　passed　unseen！　　Now；　it　all　depended　on　the　girl；　on　whether　Laurence　had　been　seen　coming　to　her　or　going　away；　on　whether；　if　the　man's　relationship　to　her　were　discovered；　she　could　be　relied　on　to　say　nothing。　　There　was　not　a　soul　in　Borrow　Street　now；　hardly　even　a　lighted　window；　and　he　took　one　of　those　rather　desperate　decisions　only　possible　to　men　daily　accustomed　to　the　instant　taking　of　responsibility。　　He　would　go　to　her；　and　see　for　himself。　　He　came　to　the　door　of　Forty…two；　obviously　one　of　those　which　are　only　shut　at　night；　and　tried　the　larger　key。　　It　fitted；　and　he　was　in　a　gas…　lighted　passage；　with　an　oil…clothed　floor；　and　a　single　door　to　his　left。　　He　stood　there　undecided。　　She　must　be　made　to　understand　that　he　knew　everything。　　She　must　not　be　told　more　than　that　he　was　a　friend　of　Larry's。　　She　must　not　be　frightened；　yet　must　be　forced　to　give　her　very　soul　away。　　A　hostile　witnessnot　to　be　treated　as　hostilea　matter　for　delicate　handling！　　But　his　knock　was　not　answered。
  Should　he　give　up　this　nerve…racking；　bizarre　effort　to　come　at　a　basis　of　judgment；　go　away；　and　just　tell　Laurence　that　he　could　not　advise　him？　　And　thenwhat？　　Something　must　be　done。　　He　knocked　again。　　Still　no　answer。　　And　with　that　impatience　of　being　thwarted；　natural　to　him；　and　fostered　to　the　full　by　the　conditions　of　his　life；　he　tried　the　other　key。　　It　worked；　and　he　opened　the　door。　Inside　all　was　dark；　but　a　voice　from　some　way　off；　with　a　sort　of　breathless　relief　in　its　foreign　tones；　said：
  〃Oh！　　then　it's　you；　Larry！　　Why　did　you　knock？　　I　was　so　frightened。　Turn　up　the　light；　dear。　　Come　in！〃
  Feeling　by　the　door　for　a　switch　in　the　pitch　blackness　he　was　conscious　of　arms　round　his　neck；　a　warm　thinly　clad　body　pressed　to　his　own；　then　withdrawn　as　quickly；　with　a　gasp；　and　the　most　awful　terror…stricken　whisper：
  〃Oh！　　Who　is　it？〃
  With　a　glacial　shiver　down　his　own　spine；　Keith　answered
  〃A　friend　of　Laurence。　　Don't　be　frightened！〃
  There　was　such　silence　that　he　could　hear　a　clock　ticking；　and　the　sound　of　his　own　hand　passing　over　the　surface　of　the　wall；　trying　to　find　the　switch。　　He　found　it；　and　in　the　light　which　leaped　up　he　saw；　stiffened　against　a　dark　curtain　evidently　screening　off　a　bedroom；　a　girl　standing；　holding　a　long　black　coat　together　at　her　throat；　so　that　her　face　with　its　pale　brown　hair；　short　and　square…　cut　and　curling　up　underneath；　had　an　uncanny　look　of　being　detached　from　any　body。　　Her　face　was　so　alabaster　pale　that　the　staring；　startled　eyes；　dark　blue　or　brown；　and　the　faint　rose　of　the　parted　lips；　were　like　colour　stainings　on　a　white　mask；　and　it　had　a　strange　delicacy；　truth；　and　pathos；　such　as　only　suffering　brings。　Though　not　susceptible　to　aesthetic　emotion；　Keith　was　curiously　affected。　　He　said　gently：
  〃You　needn't　be　afraid。　　I　haven't　come　to　do　you　harmquite　the　contrary。　　May　I　sit　down　and　talk？〃　　And；　holding　up　the　keys；　he　added：　〃Laurence　wouldn't　have　given　me　these；　would　he；　if　he　hadn't　trusted　me？〃
  Still　she　did　not　move；　and　he　had　the　impression　that　he　was　looking　at　a　spirita　spirit　startled　out　of　its　flesh。　　Nor　at　the　moment　did　it　seem　in　the　least　strange　that　he　should　conceive　such　an　odd　thought。　　He　stared　round　the　roomclean　and　tawdry；　with　its　tarnished　gilt　mirror；　marble…topped　side…table；　and　plush…covered　sofa。　　Twenty　years　and　more　since　he　had　been　in　such　a　place。　　And　he　said：
  〃Won't　you　sit　down？　　I'm　sorry　to　have　startled　you。〃
  But　still　she　did　not　move；　whispering：
  〃Who　are　you；　please？〃
  And；　moved　suddenly　beyond　the　realm　of　caution　by　the　terror　in　that　whisper；　he　answered：
  〃Larry's　brother。〃
  She　uttered　a　little　sigh　of　relief　which　went　to　Keith's　heart；　and；　still　holding　the　dark　coat　together　at　her　throat；　came　forward　and　sat　down　on　the　sofa。　　He　could　see　that　her　feet；　thrust　into　slippers；　were　bare；　with　her　short　hair；　and　those　candid　startled　eyes；　she　looked　like　a　tall　child。　　He　drew　up　a　chair　and　said：
  〃You　must　forgive　me　coming　at　such　an　hour；　he's　told　me；　you　see。〃　He　expected　her　to　flinch　and　gasp；　but　she　only　clasped　her　hands　together　on　her　knees；　and　said：
  〃Yes？〃
  Then　horror　and　discomfort　rose　up　in　him；　afresh。
  〃An　awful　business！〃
  Her　whisper　echoed　him：
  〃Yes；　oh！　yes！　　Awfulit　is　awful！〃
  And　suddenly　realising　that　the　man　must　have　fallen　dead　just　where　he　was　sitting；　Keith　became　stock　silent；　staring　at　the　floor。
  〃Yes；〃　she　whispered；　〃Just　there。　　I　see　him　now　always　falling！〃
  How　she　said　that！　　With　what　a　strange　gentle　despair！　　In　this　girl　of　evil　life；　who　had　brought　on　them　this　tragedy；　what　was　it　which　moved　him　to　a　sort　of　unwilling　compassion？
  〃You　look　very　young；〃　he　said。
  〃I　am　twenty。〃
  〃And　you　are　fond　ofmy　brother？〃
  〃I　would　die　for　him。〃
  Impossible