He seemed like a man on wires, a man on the alert, likely to miss nothing.
"Are you Mr.John P.Dunster ?" the youth asked.
"I carry my visiting-card in my hand, sir," the other replied, swinging his dressing-case around.

"My name is John P.Dunster." The young man's expression was scarcely ingratiating.

To a natural sullenness was added now the nervous distaste of one who approaches a disagreeable task.
"I want, if I may, to ask you a favour," he continued.

"If you don't feel like granting it, please say no and I'll be off at once.

I am on my way to The Hague.