Mind you remember
now, or I'll break every bone in your body." With which forcible
admonition the man shuffled out.
After a few hours he returned, not blindly drunk, but spiteful,
ill-tempered, and stupidly brutal.
About the same time on that day Adrien Leroy was making his way in the
new car through the crowded thoroughfare of Oxford Street.
"Soho? Yus, sir. Crack'ell Court, fust turnin' on the left. I'll show
yer, sir," piped the ragged urchin, whose heartfelt interest Leroy had
purchased, along with his query, by means of a shilling.
Cracknell Court was small, evil-smelling, and teeming with children.
Bidding the chauffeur wait at the entrance to the court, Adrien, to whom
dust, noises, and evil smells were things of absolute pain, entered one
of the dens and asked for Mr. Wilfer.
"There he is," said another urchin; and Leroy turned to face that
individual, who was leaning against an open door.
"Am I speaking to Mr. Johann Wilfer?" he asked courteously.
"You are," returned Wilfer, taking the begrimed pipe from his mouth, and
staring with bloodshot eyes at the handsome, high-bred face before him.
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