One morning, two days after he'd been telling me about that mysterious Mr. Smith, he came rushing into the house without even so much as knocking. He was so excited that he made me excited too. I went up to him with my hands clenched at my sides, feeling all of a tremble.
His answer made me go as cold as I'd gone hot.
'I'd give a five-pound note to know; the one presented me by Mr. Smith, with another one on top of it.'
'What's the matter with you then, if you don't know?'
He seemed to think that there was something singular in my appearance.
'I say--Mrs. Merrett--don't hit me!' As if I was going to hit him. Though he deserved shaking for making me think such things. I went back to the roly-poly pudding I was making for the children's dinner. 'I tell you what it is, Mrs. Merrett; I'm beginning to feel uneasy.'
'Not many people, I admit. It's a solemn fact that my feelings are not of national importance; but when you've heard what I've got to say, perhaps you'll begin to feel uneasy; then it'll be my turn to make inquiries. You know that Mr. Smith I told you about?' I nodded. I had heard enough of the mysterious Smith. 'Yesterday afternoon, as I was going along Piccadilly on a 'bus, I saw him on the pavement.
'He was alone right enough; though, for all I know, a ghost ought to have been walking by his side.'