So he lit another cigar, and began to think what that something should be.
As he did so he heard a loud noise, as of harsh, rattling winds in the next room, and he knew that Sir Raffle had come back from the Treasury.

There was a creaking of boots, and a knocking of chairs, and a ringing of bells, and then a loud angry voice,--a voice that was very harsh, and on this occasion very angry.

Why had not his twelve-o'clock letters been sent up to him to the West End?
Why not?
Mr.Eames knew all about it.

Why did Mr.Eames know all about it?
Why had not Mr.Eames sent them up?
Where was Mr.Eames?
Let Mr.Eames be sent to him.

All which Mr.Eames heard standing with the cigar in his mouth and his back to the fire.