“On my honour, no,” said Wrayburn, answering the look and smiling carelessly; “I don’t wonder at your supposing so, but on my honour, no. I say what I mean. I never go out after dark, but I find myself in the ludicrous situation of being followed and observed at a distance, always by one scout, and often by two.”

“Are you sure, Eugene?”

“Sure? My dear boy, they are always the same.”

“But there’s no process out against you. The Jews only threaten. They have done nothing. Besides, they know where to find you, and I represent you. Why take the trouble?”

“Observe the legal mind!” remarked Eugene, turning round to the furniture again, with an air of indolent rapture. “Observe the dyer’s hand, assimilating itself to what it works in⁠—or would work in, if anybody would give it anything to do. Respected solicitor, it’s not that. The schoolmaster’s abroad.”

“The schoolmaster?”