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CHAPTER VII.
MRS. BYASS’S LODGINGS.
“You are Mr. Kirkwood?” said his visitor civilly. “My name is Snowdon. I should be glad to speak a few words, with you, if you could spare the time.”
Sidney’s thoughts were instantly led into the right channel; he identified the old man by his white hair and the cloak. The hat, however, which had been described to him, was now exchanged for a soft felt of a kind common enough; the guernsey, too, had been laid aside. With ready good-will he invited Mr. Snowdon to enter.
There was not much in the room to distinguish it from the dwelling of any orderly mechanic. A small bed occupied one side; a small table stood before the window; the toilet apparatus was of course unconcealed;
