He was ushered immediately into a confidential-looking office, obviously furnished in the early years of Queen Victoria's reign, and never altered since. A lean, frail-looking old gentleman rose briskly from his chair as he entered and limped forward to meet him.
«My dear sir,» exclaimed the lawyer, «how extremely good of you to come in person! Indeed, I am ashamed to have given you so much trouble. I trust you were passing this way, and that my glasses have not put you to any great inconvenience. Pray take a seat, Lord Peter.» He peered gratefully at the young man over a pince-nez obviously the fellow of that now adorning a dossier in Scotland Yard.
Lord Peter sat down. The lawyer sat down. Lord Peter picked up a glass paper-weight from the desk and weighed it thoughtfully in his hand. Subconsciously he noted what an admirable set of finger-prints he was leaving upon it. He replaced it with precision on the exact centre of a pile of letters.
«It's quite all right,» said Lord Peter. «I was here on business. Very happy to be of service to you. Very awkward to lose one's glasses, Mr. Crimplesham.»
«Yes,» said the lawyer, «I assure you I feel quite lost without them. I have this pair, but they do not fit my nose so well — besides, that chain has a great sentimental value for me. I was terribly distressed on arriving at Balham to find that I had lost them. I made enquiries of the railway, but to no purpose. I feared they had been stolen. There were such crowds at Victoria, and the carriage was packed with people all the way to Balham. Did you come across them in the train?»
«Well, no,» said Lord Peter, «I found them in rather an unexpected place. Do you mind telling me if you recognized any of your fellow-travellers on that occasion?»
The lawyer stared at him.
«Not a soul,» he answered. «Why do you ask?»
«Well,» said Lord Peter, «I thought perhaps the — the person with whom I found them might have taken them for a joke.»
The lawyer looked puzzled.