"The parson at the door says all serene,'Sorry to confuse your accounts, but it'll pay for the window.''What window?'I says.'The one I'm going to break,'he says, and smashed that blessed pane with his umbrella."
All three inquirers made an exclamation;and the inspector said under his breath,"Are we after escaped lunatics?"The waiter went on with some relish for the ridiculous story:
"I was so knocked silly for a second, I couldn't do anything. The man marched out of the place and joined his friend just round the corner.Then they went so quick up Bullock Street that I couldn't catch them, though I ran round the bars to do it."
"Bullock Street,"said the detective, and shot up that thoroughfare as quickly as the strange couple he pursued.
Their journey now took them through bare brick ways like tunnels;streets with few lights and even with few windows;streets that seemed built out of the blank backs of everything and everywhere. Dusk was deepening, and it was not easy even for the London policemen to guess in what exact direction they were treading.The inspector, however, was pretty certain that they would eventually strike some part of Hampstead Heath.Abruptly one bulging gas-lit window broke the blue twilight like a bull's-eye lantern;and Valentin stopped an instant before a little garish sweetstuff shop.After an instant's hesitation he went in;he stood amid the gaudy colours of the confectionery with entire gravity and bought thirteen chocolate cigars with a certain care.He was clearly preparing an opening;but he did not need one.
An angular, elderly young woman in the shop had regarded his elegant appearance with a merely automatic inquiry;but when she saw the door behind him blocked with the blue uniform of the inspector, her eyes seemed to wake up.
"Oh,"she said,"if you've come about for that parcel, I've sent it off already."