My electric bell purred loudly. A shower of light taps came from the knocker of the door.
“Keep him back for a minute or two, if you can!” said my guest in a whisper.
I waited until the kitchen door had closed on him, and then opened the front door to his brother.
Seeing him now close at hand, I found that he differed in many ways from the man that he was pursuing. He was much older and his hair was beginning to go grey. He gave me the impression of being a better man altogether than his brother. I do not know and shall never know what the quarrel between them was, but I feel sure it was his brother who was in the wrong.
He told me with a pleasant smile that he had come from the house agents who had the letting of these fiats. He could not remember their names; he was a foreigner and these English names easily escaped him. But he believed that there was a flat to be let in that block.
“Yes,” I said, “the basement flat is to let. You understand—the basement flat? You go down the area steps to get to it. Why ring here in order to tell me that?”
He was desolated. “Because, mademoiselle, I have had the very great misfortune to lose the key of that basement flat. Possibly your own latch-key would fit it.”
“No, it would not. But you need not mind, for you would not have taken the flat in any case. They are not intended for rich people.”
He laughed. “Appearances are so deceptive,” he said. Then quite suddenly and rather adroitly he stepped past me into the passage. “Ah,” he said, looking round, “if I could have a little place like this, furnished and arranged with the exquisite taste that is shown here, I should be perfectly content.”
“Will you please go away?” I said.