“My dear fellow,” said Eugene, as he lighted another cigar, “I fear my unexpected visitors have been troublesome. If as a set-off (excuse the legal phrase from a barrister-at-law) you would like to ask Tippins to tea, I pledge myself to make love to her.”

“Eugene, Eugene, Eugene,” replied Mortimer, still pacing the room, “I am sorry for this. And to think that I have been so blind!”

“How blind, dear boy?” inquired his unmoved friend.

“What were your words that night at the riverside public-house?” said Lightwood, stopping. “What was it that you asked me? Did I feel like a dark combination of traitor and pickpocket when I thought of that girl?”

“I seem to remember the expression,” said Eugene.

“How do you feel when you think of her just now?”