Moreover, the question of
to-morrow had to be decided.
There was no answer to the bell, and he rang again, with an increase of
energy.
Then he perceived through the fanlight an illumination in the hall. The
door opened cautiously, as such doors always do open, and a middle-aged
man in a dressing-gown stood before him. In the background he descried a
small table with a candle on it, and the foul, polished walls of the
narrow lobby--a representative London lodging-house.
'I want to see Mrs. Tudor,' said Hugo.
'Well, she ain't in at the moment,' replied the man.
'Excuse me,' Hugo corrected him, 'I saw her enter a minute ago with her
latchkey.'
'No, you didn't,' the man persisted. 'I'm the landlord of this house,
and I've been in my room at the back, and nobody's come in this last
half-hour, for I can see the 'all and the stairs as I sits in my chair.'
'Wait a moment,' said Hugo; and he retreated to the kerb, in the
expectation of being able to descry Camilla's light in the fifth story.
'Oh, you can look,' the landlord observed loftily, divining his
intention; 'I warrant there's no light there.'
And there was not.
'Perhaps you'll call again,' said the landlord suavely.
'I suppose you haven't got a room to let?' Hugo demanded, fumbling
about in his brain for a plan to meet this swift crisis.
Pages:
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226