He smiled shamefacedly to himself, and, pushing his hands deep into his pockets, walked faster with a suddenly grave face.

Behind him--to the left--a cigar end glowed in the gateway of Mr.Vinck's front yard.

Leaning against one of the brick pillars, Mr.Vinck, the cashier of Hudig & Co., smoked the last cheroot of the evening.

Amongst the shadows of the trimmed bushes Mrs.Vinck crunched slowly, with measured steps, the gravel of the circular path before the house.
"There's Willems going home on foot--and drunk I fancy," said Mr.Vinck over his shoulder.

"I saw him jump and wave his hat." The crunching of the gravel stopped.
"Horrid man," said Mrs.Vinck, calmly.