Yes, the man was still standing there awaiting somebody. I could see the glowing end of his cigar.
Fortunately, he had his back turned towards me, gazing in the direction of the Broadway in apparent expectation. This allowed me to slip along a few yards, and entering the garden gate of one of the villas, I crouched down behind the low stone wall which separated the garden from the footway.
Kneeling there, I could watch without being seen, for fortunately the stranger opposite had not seen me.
I suppose I must have been there fully ten minutes. Several people passed within a few inches of me quite unsuspicious of my presence. In Castlebar Road a few people went along, but none interested the watcher.
Of a sudden, however, after straining his eyes for a long time in the direction whence I had come, he suddenly threw away his cigar and started off eagerly.
A few moments later I witnessed the approach of a short, thinnish man, wearing a black overcoat, open, over his evening clothes, and an opera hat.
And as he approached I recognized him. It was none other than Gregory himself!
The two men shook hands heartily, and by their mutual enthusiasm I realized that they could not have met for some considerable time.
They halted on the kerb in eager consultation, then both with one accord turned and strolled together in the direction of the station.