"So?"
The Gipsy shouldered his bundle.
"For God's sake, wait!" begged the clock-mender.
But the Gipsy walked out, unheeding.
CHAPTER XVIII
A WHITE SCAR
Two days later, in the afternoon.
"Grumbach," said Carmichael, "what the deuce were you looking at the other night, with those opera-glasses?"
"At the ball?" Grumbach pressed down the ash in his pipe and brushed his thumb on his sleeve. "I was looking into the past."