“I'm from Flint, Michigan, and I'm just tuckered out. They keep me going night and day. I'm making a collection of old knockers. Do you suppose there are any shops where they keep 'em here?”
“Don't know. I'm just a pilgrim and a stranger and am not posted in the knocker trade,” I answered.
The crowd had turned a corner; and with a swift good-by she ran after it, fearful, I suppose, of losing some detail in the domestic life of Hadrian.
So on one leg, as it were, she enters and swiftly crosses the stage. It's a way Providence has of preparing us for the future. To this moment's detention I was indebted for an adventure of importance, for as she left me I saw Muggs, the sleek, pestiferous Muggs, coming out of the old baths on his way to the gate. He must have been the man who had called to see Norris that morning. He turned pale with astonishment and nodded.
“Well, Muggs, here you are,” I said.
He handled himself in a remarkable fashion, for he was as cool as a cucumber when he answered:
“I used to resemble a lot of men, and some pretty decent fellows used to resemble me, but as soon as they saw me they quit it—got out from under, you know. Even my photographs have quit resembling me.”
“Well, you have changed a little, but my hat and overcoat look just about as they did,” I laughed. .
“If I didn't know it was impossible I would say that your name was Potter,” said he.
“And if I knew it was impossible I would swear that your name was Muggs,” I answered.