He took up his hat and went. . This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. This is my friend, Mr. ’ ‘Merci. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. They knew they were all Bogey in disguise. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. Take it, and take the estates, in Captain Sheppard's name. She thought study would be better. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. "The ban-dogs!" thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of "The long drover of the Borough market.
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