"I forget the fellow's name; but it isn't bad.
We're pretty snug here," he added, throwing open two doors in
succession, to show the extent of his apartment.
"Here you have the dining-room and drawing-room and library in one;
and here's my bedroom, and here's my bath."
He pulled an easy-chair up toward the low fire for Lemuel. "But
perhaps you're hot from walking? Sit wherever you like."
Lemuel chose to sit by the window. "It's very mild out," he said,
and Bellingham did not exact anything more of him. He talked at him,
and left Lemuel to make his mental inventory of the dense Turkey
rugs on the slippery hardwood floor, the pictures on the Avails, the
deep, leather-lined seats, the bric-a-brac on the mantel, the tall,
coloured chests of drawers in two corners, the delicate china and
quaint silver on the table.
Presently steps were heard outside, and Bellingham threw open the
door as he had to Lemuel, and gave a hand to each of the two guests
whom he met on his threshold.
"Ah, Meredith! Good morning, venerable father!" He drew them in.
"Let me introduce you to Mr. Barker, Mr. Meredith. Mr. Barker, the
Rev. Mr. Seyton. You fellows are pretty prompt."
"We're pretty hungry," said Mr. Meredith. "I don't know that we
should have got here if we hadn't leaned up against each other as we
came along. Several policemen regarded us suspiciously, but Seyton's
cloth protected us.
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