"Ah, yes. I had my work. But, oh! it was so lonely—so very lonely."
"You're not lonely here," said Boyne cheerfully. "So don't bother. Take your ease, and make the best of it. You're in a house which shelters people like yourself. Here everyone keeps a still tongue—and nobody knows about little Maggie."
The curious man with the triangular face blinked across at Boyne—and remained silent for several moments.
"Little Maggie!" he gasped at last. "Little Maggie! Ah! I remember. I——"
Again he paused. Then glaring into Boyne's face with a strange wild expression, he said:
"You! Why—why you're—you're really Willie Wisden!"
"Of course I am," laughed Boyne. "But keep cool, Lionel, old chap, or you'll have one of those nasty attacks of yours coming on again. Ta-ta! I'll come back very soon," he said, and turning he left the room and descended the stairs.
"Perhaps I'll come back," he muttered to himself. "But I do not think so! The idiot has served me well, and I've got the tubes. That is all I want—at present!"
And a moment later he was walking in the darkness through Harpur Street.
CHAPTER XXVI