"Come to my room if you have business with me," Crozier said sharply.
As they went, Crozier swung aside from the front door towards the corner of the house.
"The back way ?" asked Burlingame with a sneer.
"The old familiar way to you," was the smarting reply.

"In any case, you are not welcome in Mrs.Tynan's part of the house.

My room is my own, however, and I should prefer you within four walls while doing business with you." Burlingame's face changed colour slightly, for the tone of Crozier's voice, the grimness of his manner, suggested an abnormal condition.
Burlingame was not a brave man physically.

He had never lived the outdoor life, though he had lived so much among outdoor people.

He was that rare thing in a new land, a decadent, a connoisseur in vice, a lover of opiates and of liquor.