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CHAPTER LXXI.
"Clown. … 'Twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where, indeed, you have a delight to sit, have you not?
"Froth. I have so; because it is an open room, and good for winter.
"Clo. Why, very well then: I hope here be truths."
Five days after the death of Raffles, Mr Bambridge was standing at his leisure under the large archway leading into the yard of the Green Dragon. He was not fond of solitary contemplation, but he had only just come out of the house, and any human figure standing at ease under the archway in the early afternoon was as certain to attract companionship as a pigeon which has found something worth peeking at. In this case there was no material object to feed upon, but the eye of reason saw a probability of mental sustenance in the shape of gossip. Mr Hopkins, the meek-mannered draper opposite, was the first to act on this inward vision, being the more ambitious of a little masculine talk because his
