"Extraordinary!" said Moxon. "Well, I can't help it, and I can't wait; I must take my business elsewhere. I thought I saw Mr. Pettigrew in the Charing Cross Hotel, but he was dressed differently and seemed strange. Well, this is a great nuisance, but it can't be helped, I suppose.... A month...."
Off he went in a huff.
Mudd watched him as he went, then he closed the hall door. Then he sat down on one of the hall chairs.
"Dressed differently and seemed strange." It only wanted those words to start alarm in the mind of Mudd.
The affair of a year ago had always perplexed him, and now this!
"Seemed strange."
Could it be?... H'm.... He got up and went downstairs.
"Why, what's the matter with you, Mr. Mudd?" asked the cook-housekeeper. "Why, you're all of a shake."
"It's my stomach," said Mudd.