The Club of Queer Trades
milkman, of the lady imprisoned in the basement and the man staring from the porch. At length he said:
"If you're thinking of going back to look the thing up, you must be careful what you do. It's no good you two going there. To go twice on the same pretext would look dubious. To go on a different pretext would look worse. You may be quite certain that the inquisitive gentleman who looked at you looked thoroughly, and will wear, so to speak, your portraits next his heart. If you want to find out if there is anything in this without a police raid I fancy you had better wait outside. I'll go in and see them."
His slow and reflective walk brought us at length within sight of the house. It stood up ponderous and purple against the last pallor of twilight. It looked like an ogre's castle. And so, apparently, it was.
"Do you think it's safe, Basil," said his brother, pausing, a little pale, under the lamp, "to go into that place alone? Of course we shall be near enough to hear if
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