Langholm glanced at himself in the little mirror.

His was an honest face, and it was an honest part that he must play, or none at all.

He leaned over the apron and interested himself in the London life that was so familiar to him still.

It was as though he had not been absent above a day, yet his perceptions were sharpened by his very absence of so many weeks.

The wood pavement gave off a strong but not unpleasant scent in the heavy August heat; it was positively dear to the old Londoner's nostrils.