'Do you propose to make a living by it?' inquired Briscoe.
'Certainly.'
Briscoe rose, and without comment left the house. Caroline looked at her husband with a glance of mingled pity and amusement.
'Why are you so fantastic?' she asked softly.
'You laugh at my idea now, because you do not see it as I see it.
Wait till it is completely developed before you condemn it.'
Caroline made no reply; but went on with her sewing. Lee threw himself at full length on a rickety sofa and closed his eyes. Besides the sofa, two chairs and a table, a rag of carpet before the fire-place, a shelf with some books of poetry and novels, and an old oil-painting in a dark corner, made up the furniture of the room. There were three other apartments, a kitchen and two bedrooms, all as scantily furnished. The house was in the top flat of a four-storey land in Peyton Street, Glasgow.
Lee dozed and dreamed. Caroline sewed steadily. An hour elapsed without a word from either. Then both were aroused by the noisy entrance of Briscoe, who, having let himself into the house by his latch-key, strode into the parlour with a portmanteau in either hand. He thrashed these down on the floor with defiant emphasis, and said, frowning away a grin: 'Your twin-brother's traps, Lee. I'll bring him upstairs, too.'
He went out immediately, as if afraid of being recalled.
'Your twin-brother!' exclaimed Mrs. Lee. 'I never heard of him.'
'And I hear of him for the first time.'