"That makes a difference, of course." The young man's face fell.
"Then the furniture wasn't his ?" he remarked.
Wrayson shook his head.
"No! the furniture belongs to the landlord.

There will be an inventory, of course, and you will be able to find out if anything was your brother's." It was obvious that Mr.Sydney Barnes had not as yet entered upon the purpose of his visit.

He fidgeted for a moment or two with his hat, and looked up at Wrayson, only to look nervously away again.

To set him more at his ease, Wrayson lit a cigarette and passed the box over.
"Thank you, Mr.Wrayson! Thank you, sir!" his visitor exclaimed.

"You see I'm a smoker," he added, holding up his yellow-stained forefinger.
"That is, I smoke when I can afford to.