She was either ashamed when her eyes met Grim's or else afraid of him.

But she smiled pleasantly enough and without asking our business led the way at once to a room at the other end of a long hall that was crowded with all sorts of curios.

They were mostly stone bric-a- brac-fragments of Moabite pottery and that kind of thing, with a pretty liberal covering of ordinary house dust.

In fact, the house had the depressing "feel" of a rarely visited museum.
The room she showed us into was the library--three walls lined with books, mostly with German titles--a big cupboard in one corner, reaching from floor to ceiling--a big desk by the window--three armchairs and a stool.

There were no pictures, and the only thing that smacked of ornament was the Persian rug on the floor.
We waited five minutes before Scharnhoff came in, looking as if we had disturbed his nap.