my scope. They said no more. What I had heard simply whetted the edge of my curiosity. I wondered what Arthur had done, before I knew him, to cause gossip It seemed to me that a quiet, refined young man, such as I previously supposed him to be, could not have given any very serious offence.
Perhaps, however, it was this very liaison, which I was now bent upon breaking, that had set his friends talking. That must be it. This horrible woman had been his bane. People had discovered her existence, and of course no young man in this enlightened century would recognize Arthur's unsavory life. I supposed that although the youths of to-day were silly and tedious they were at least strictly moral.
"Notting Hill."
Here I was at my destination. I alighted hurriedly, not daring to look at my fellow travelers, and was soon in the street. Now for No. 121 Lancaster Road.
I had no idea where it was, but a kindly policeman informed me that it was not more than seven minutes' walk from the station. He spoke
