person for whom I did mistake him. Two pins are not so like each other."
"Curious. Goad is not a common type. Strange that you should know his double."
On the following Saturday I ran down again to Dawson. Directly we were clear of the station I began on the subject which had been puzzling my brain.
"Do you know, Phil, the other night at the Apollo I saw a man who was the very image of Mr. Groome. Never saw such a resemblance in my life. The man was so like him that I doubt if any man living could have told which was which if they were both of them together."
"The Apollo! Do you mean the Apollo Club? What should old Groome be doing there?"
"That's the queer part of it. The man was playing."
"Playing! Do you mean performing?"
"Very much performing. He played a pianoforte solo. I never heard such playing, and I believe I've heard every pianist that ever was."
"You had better tell old Groome. It will tickle him, the idea of his playing a pianoforte solo at the Apollo Club."
I did tell him. We dined at the Groomes'. Dawson drove me straight there from the station. When Mr. Groome came out into the hall to greet us I protest that a sort of shock travelled all down my spinal column. I still had the figure of Isaac Goad clearly before me in my mind's eye. I still had, as it were, the concourse of sounds for which he had been responsible ringing in my ears. I still
