And, with these words, the girl banged the door in Mr. Greenwood's face.
"I must have taken down the wrong number in my memorandum," thought the Member of Parliament, as he turned away from the house, which was evidently in a state of siege. "This is very provoking!"
He then knocked at the door of the next house.
A woman with a child in her arms answered the summons; and, without waiting for any question, said abruptly, "You had better walk in."
Greenwood entered accordingly, supposing that the woman had overheard his inquiry next door, and that he had now found the abode of the person whom he sought.
The woman led the way into a back room, almost completely denuded of furniture, smelling awfully of tobacco-smoke, and very feebly lighted with a single candle that wanted snuffing.
In the midst of a dense cloud of that vapour, a man without a coat was sitting on a trunk; but the moment Greenwood entered, this individual threw down his clay-pipe, and advancing towards the visitor, exclaimed in a ferocious voice, "So you're going your rounds at this hour, are you? Well—I'm as far off from having the tin as I have been all along; and as I am going away to-morrow, I don't mind if I give you a good drubbing to teach you how to pester a gentleman with shabby bits of paper in future."
Thus speaking, the ferocious individual advanced towards Greenwood, squaring away like clock-work.
"Really, sir—you must labour under some mistake," exclaimed the Member of Parliament. "I have never called here before in my life."
"Then who the devil are you?" demanded the pugilistic phenomenon.