CHAPTER XXIV 



DEPORTATION 



Mr Giveen, left alone in IVIr Dashwood's chambers, 

 took a comfortable seat in an arm-chair and gazed 

 around him. 



He felt that he had fallen on his feet. He had 

 extracted two bottles of ginger-beer, some biscuits, 

 and a drive in a taxi-cab from his new-found friend ; 

 he was going to extract a dinner ; he was about to 

 have his revenge on French. All these things 

 combined to cast him into a pleasant and amused 

 state of mind, and he looked with satisfaction at 

 all the evidences of well-being around him. 



Then he got up and began a circuit of the room, 

 looking at the prints on the wall, examining his 

 own face in the looking-glass, touching the boxing- 

 gloves and foils. Then he examined the writing- 

 table. Fortunately there were no letters with Mr 

 Dashwood's name on them, and when he had 

 turned over the books and taken another peep at 

 himself in the glass he resumed his seat and pre- 

 sently fell into a doze which deepened into slumber. 



He had slept like this for some three-quarters 



of an hour, when he was awakened by the entry 



of his new friend. 



261 



