The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. “You will come back, won’t you?” He nodded cheerfully. “You found the flat easily?” said Capes in the pause. ‘Talk to me another time. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table.
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