in the short, jerky fashion in which he used habitually to commune with himself, "That face!—I've seen it before—but where?" And then he suddenly seemed to see himself approaching the City Hall, and noting, as he walked on, this same face.
It was the habit of the detective to see all that came within his range of vision, as he went about, but he might not have retained a memory so distinct if he had not, in leaving the very same place, encountered the man again, his position slightly shifted, but his attitude as before, that of one who waits, or watches.
For some moments he looked thoughtfully at the picture, which was that of a dark and bearded man wearing a double eyeglass, and then he placed it under a strong magnifier, and looked again.
"Ah!" he finally exclaimed, "I was sure of it! The man is in disguise!"
He took the picture at once to the ladies' sitting room, and held it before the eyes of Hilda Grant.
"Do you know it?" he asked.
"That!" She caught it from his hand, and held it toward the light. "It is the man whom" She paused, looking at Ferrars, inquiringly.
"Whom you saw at the pawnshop?"
"Yes. And"
"And at Glenville?"
