later a "Mr. Samuel Baker" was ushered into the room. As be entered, I took stock of him, half fearing he might be some sort of police officer in disguise. He was a stout, rather pompous man of middle height, with fluffy whiskers, clean shaven chin and upper lip, and from his dress might have been a linen draper or small tradesman from some cathedral town. Having warmly shaken hands with me he put his top hat down on a chair, seated himself on another, mapped his forehead with a red bandanna handkerchief, took off and carefully wiped his spectacles, returned them to his nose, and then said quietly. "What do you think of this for a make-up. Dr. De Normanville?"
"Walworth," I cried, in utter amazement. "You don't really mean to say it's you, I was just beginning to wonder how I should manage to rid myself of Mr. Samuel Baker before you should arrive. You are certainly a genius at concealing your identity, if ever there was one."
"I have had to do it so often," he replied, "that I have reduced it to a science."
"Have you anything to report?"
"A good deal," he answered. "But before I begin, may I light a cheroot? I see from the ash trays you smoke in here!"
"Smoke as much as you please," I replied. "May I also offer you some refreshment. Perhaps you haven't dined? If so, I can tell them to bring you up something!"
"No, thank you," he answered; "I have dined, and excellently. Now let us get to business without any further waste of time."
