" "A very sufficient reason," answered the jailer. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door. It is all very complex. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. “How could I, when your sister sings now at the ‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every placard in London?” “The likeness between us,” she said, “before I began to disfigure myself with rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. .
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