"I heard him go back again afterwards." Francis shrugged his shoulders.
"Perhaps he decided not to wait and you didn't hear him go by." Angrave shook his head.
"I do not see how he could have left the place without my hearing him, sir," he declared.

"The door of my office has been open all the time, and I sit opposite to it.

Besides, on these stone floors one can hear any one so distinctly." "Then what," Francis asked, "has become of him ?" The clerk shook his head.
"I haven't any idea, sir," he confessed.
Francis plunged into his work and forgot all about the matter.

He was reminded of it, however, at luncheon-time, when, on entering the dining-room of the club, he saw Andrew Wilmore seated alone at one of the small tables near the wall.

He went over to him at once.
"Hullo, Andrew," he greeted him, "what are you doing here by yourself ?" "Bit hipped, old fellow," was the depressed reply.