ONE morning a gentleman called upon me and sent in his card, which bore the inscription:—
The Tower,
Cromwell Road,
Kensington.
He said his business was private and urgent, and that he would be obliged if I would see him at once. I could not do that, however, as I was engaged, and it was half-an-hour before I could grant him an interview.
He was a handsome, even fascinating man, with a suave manner, a smiling face, clear blue eyes, a light beard and moustache, and light curly hair that fell about a white and well-shaped forehead. His physique was faultless, his presence commanding, and he was exceedingly pleasant, affable, and condescending. He was in possession of a perfect set of teeth, and it seemed as if his moustache had been specially trimmed and trained so as not to hide them.
