The Club of Queer Trades
Mr. Bingham from the museum is coming again at three."
"I know," said Adelaide Chadd, bitterly. "I suppose we shall have to tell him about this. I thought that no good-fortune would ever come easily to us."
Grant suddenly turned round. "What do you mean?" he said. "What will you have to tell Mr. Bingham?"
"You know what I shall have to tell him," said the professor's sister, almost fiercely. "I don't know that we need give it its wretched name. Do you think that the keeper of Asiatic manuscripts will be allowed to go on like that?" And she pointed for an instant at the figure in the garden, the shining, listening face and the unresting feet.
Basil Grant took out his watch with an abrupt movement. "When did you say the British Museum man was coming?" he said.
"Three o'clock," said Miss Chadd, briefly.
"Then I have an hour before me," said Grant, and without another word threw up the window and jumped out into the garden. He did not walk straight up to the doctor
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