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"
I
know
the
stuff
.
"
"
And
there
was
someone
rapping
at
the
door
.
It
was
my
landlord
with
threats
and
inquiries
,
an
old
Polish
Jew
in
a
long
grey
coat
and
greasy
slippers
.
I
had
been
tormenting
a
cat
in
the
night
,
he
was
sure
--
the
old
woman
's
tongue
had
been
busy
.
He
insisted
on
knowing
all
about
it
.
The
laws
in
this
country
against
vivisection
were
very
severe
--
he
might
be
liable
.
I
denied
the
cat
.
Then
the
vibration
of
the
little
gas
engine
could
be
felt
all
over
the
house
,
he
said
.
That
was
true
,
certainly
.
He
edged
round
me
into
the
room
,
peering
about
over
his
German-silver
spectacles
,
and
a
sudden
dread
came
into
my
mind
that
he
might
carry
away
something
of
my
secret
.
I
tried
to
keep
between
him
and
the
concentrating
apparatus
I
had
arranged
,
and
that
only
made
him
more
curious
.
What
was
I
doing
?
Why
was
I
always
alone
and
secretive
?
Was
it
legal
?
Was
it
dangerous
?
I
paid
nothing
but
the
usual
rent
.
His
had
always
been
a
most
respectable
house
--
in
a
disreputable
neighbourhood
.
Suddenly
my
temper
gave
way
.
I
told
him
to
get
out
.
He
began
to
protest
,
to
jabber
of
his
right
of
entry
.
In
a
moment
I
had
him
by
the
collar
;
something
ripped
,
and
he
went
spinning
out
into
his
own
passage
.
I
slammed
and
locked
the
door
and
sat
down
quivering
.
"
He
made
a
fuss
outside
,
which
I
disregarded
,
and
after
a
time
he
went
away
.
"
But
this
brought
matters
to
a
crisis
.
I
did
not
know
what
he
would
do
,
nor
even
what
he
had
the
power
to
do
.
To
move
to
fresh
apartments
would
have
meant
delay
;
altogether
I
had
barely
twenty
pounds
left
in
the
world
,
for
the
most
part
in
a
bank
--
and
I
could
not
afford
that
.
Vanish
!
It
was
irresistible
.
Then
there
would
be
an
inquiry
,
the
sacking
of
my
room
.
"
At
the
thought
of
the
possibility
of
my
work
being
exposed
or
interrupted
at
its
very
climax
,
I
became
very
angry
and
active
.
I
hurried
out
with
my
three
books
of
notes
,
my
cheque-book
--
the
tramp
has
them
now
--
and
directed
them
from
the
nearest
Post
Office
to
a
house
of
call
for
letters
and
parcels
in
Great
Portland
Street
.
I
tried
to
go
out
noiselessly
.
Coming
in
,
I
found
my
landlord
going
quietly
upstairs
;
he
had
heard
the
door
close
,
I
suppose
.
You
would
have
laughed
to
see
him
jump
aside
on
the
landing
as
I
came
tearing
after
him
.
He
glared
at
me
as
I
went
by
him
,
and
I
made
the
house
quiver
with
the
slamming
of
my
door
.
I
heard
him
come
shuffling
up
to
my
floor
,
hesitate
,
and
go
down
.
I
set
to
work
upon
my
preparations
forthwith
.
"
It
was
all
done
that
evening
and
night
.
While
I
was
still
sitting
under
the
sickly
,
drowsy
influence
of
the
drugs
that
decolourise
blood
,
there
came
a
repeated
knocking
at
the
door
.
It
ceased
,
footsteps
went
away
and
returned
,
and
the
knocking
was
resumed
.
There
was
an
attempt
to
push
something
under
the
door
--
a
blue
paper
.
Then
in
a
fit
of
irritation
I
rose
and
went
and
flung
the
door
wide
open
.
'
Now
then
?
'
said
I.
"
It
was
my
landlord
,
with
a
notice
of
ejectment
or
something
.
He
held
it
out
to
me
,
saw
something
odd
about
my
hands
,
I
expect
,
and
lifted
his
eyes
to
my
face
.
"
For
a
moment
he
gaped
.
Then
he
gave
a
sort
of
inarticulate
cry
,
dropped
candle
and
writ
together
,
and
went
blundering
down
the
dark
passage
to
the
stairs
.
I
shut
the
door
,
locked
it
,
and
went
to
the
looking-glass
.
Then
I
understood
his
terror
...
My
face
was
white
--
like
white
stone
.
