He took a glass of ginger wine, then he fetched his hat.
"I'm going out to get the air," said Mudd. "I mayn't be back for some time; don't bother about me if I aren't, and be sure to lock up the plate."
"God bless my soul, what's the matter with the man?" murmured the astonished housekeeper as Mudd vanished. "Blest if he isn't getting as queer as his master!"
Out in the street Mudd paused to blow his nose in a bandanna handkerchief just like Simon's. Then, as though this act had started his mechanism, off he went, hailed an omnibus in the next street, and got off at Charing Cross.
He entered the Charing Cross Hotel.
"Is a Mr. Pettigrew here?" asked Mudd of the hall porter.
The hall porter grinned.
"Yes, there's a Mr. Pettigrew staying here, but he's out."
"Well, I'm his servant," said Mudd.
"Staying here with him?" asked the porter.