hand appeared so prone to do when the Green Overcoat came near it. He put that trembling hand into the left-hand pocket and found nothing. He had expected as much. Was it likely that his visitor would have left anything? For form's sake he put it into the right hand pocket in turn; and thence, to his amazement, he drew out the Cheque Book!
He looked at it stupidly for a moment, not understanding how such a prize should conceivably have been abandoned. Then he smiled again that not cheerful smile, and slowly consulted the name of the bank and of the owner, and the counterfoils one by one.
The sums that stood therein called to him like great heralds; they made his puny old chest heave and certain muscles in him grow rigid.
He was in the midst of the tale when his whole being fainted within him, as it were—stopped dead at the noise of a violent rain of blows upon his outer door.
