Eugene, cigar in mouth and pen in hand, tossed him his card. After spelling it out slowly, the man made it into a little roll, and tied it up in an end of his neckerchief still more slowly.

“Now,” said Lightwood, for the third time, “if you have quite completed your various preparations, my friend, and have fully ascertained that your spirits are cool and not in any way hurried, what’s your name?”

“Roger Riderhood.”

“Dwelling-place?”

“Lime’us Hole.”

“Calling or occupation?”

Not quite so glib with this answer as with the previous two, Mr. Riderhood gave in the definition, “Waterside character.”