Instead of pursuing this receding figure, Philip Sheldon walked straight into the office.
It was empty.

There was no one in any of the shaded compartments, so painfully suggestive of pecuniary distress and the stealthy hypothecation of portable property.

A sound of rattling and bumping in an inner office betrayed the neighbourhood of a clerk; but in the office Mr.Sheldon was alone.
Upon the blotting-pad on the counter of the central partition the stockbroker perceived one great blot of ink, still moist.

Ha laid the tip of his square forefinger upon it, to assure himself of that fact, and then set himself deliberately to scrutinise the blotting-paper.

He was a man who seldom hesitated.