At this moment there was a low knock at the door.
CHAPTER II.
‘Of all things tired thy lips look weariest.’
* * * * *
‘What shall I do to be for ever known?’
The handle was turned, and the door opened with a considerable amount of caution (the Professor did not permit interruptions). It was evidently, however, the caution of one who was suppressing badly a wild desire to make a rush into the room, and presently a man’s head appeared round the corner of the door, and after it his body. He came a yard or two beyond the threshold, and then stood still. His reddish hair was standing out a little, and his small twinkling Irish eyes were blinking nervously. He looked eagerly first at the younger man, who was his master, and then at the Professor, and then back again at Wyndham.
‘Well, Denis?’ said the latter, a little impatiently.
‘If ye plaze, sir, there’s an unfortunate young faymale on the steps below.’
The Professor frowned. As if such an ordinary occurrence as that should be allowed to interfere with a discussion on the great discovery! Wyndham spoke.
‘If she is noisy or troublesome, you had better call a policeman,’ he said indifferently.