The mist, which had been gathering since the early afternoon, began to thicken ominously as I approached Abbey-road, Hornsey, from Crouch End Station, causing me to quicken my pace so that I might make my destination before the fog closed in; for this was my first visit to Marion D’Arblay’s studio, and the neighbourhood was strange to me. And in fact I was none too soon; for hardly had I set my hand on the quaint bronze knocker above the plate inscribed “Mr. J. D’Arblay,” when the adjoining houses grew pale and shadowy and then vanished altogether.
My elaborate knock—in keeping with the distinguished knocker—was followed by soft, quick footsteps, the sound whereof set my heart ticking in double-quick time; the door opened, and there stood Miss D’Arblay, garbed in a most alluring blue smoc
