When they had encountered each other’s glance several times in this way, the stranger, in a harsh, deep voice, broke silence.

“Were you looking for me,” he said, “when you peered in at the window?”

“Not that I am aware of, unless you’re Mr. ⁠—” Here Mr. Bumble stopped short; for he was curious to know the stranger’s name, and thought in his impatience, he might supply the blank.

“I see you were not,” said the stranger; an expression of quiet sarcasm playing about his mouth; “or you would have known my name. You don’t know it. I would recommend you not to ask for it.”

“I meant no harm, young man,” observed Mr. Bumble, majestically.