"Poorly, Mr. Saunders," said the old fellow, though his face lighted up at the greeting. "The winters drag terribly nowadays. There don't seem no summers or springs."
"You haven't found what you were looking for, I suppose?"
"No, sir, not yet; but I shall some day. I always told them that Mr. Borlsover kept some queer animals."
"And what is he looking for?" I asked, when we had parted from him.
"A beast with five fingers," said Saunders. "This afternoon, since he has been in the reptile house, I suppose it will be a reptile with a hand. Next week it will be a monkey with practically no body. The poor old chap is a born materialist.
"It's a queer coincidence, by the way, that you should have known Adrian Borlsover and that you should have received a blessing at his hand. Has it brought
