Bruff, "I saw it
too!" He turned about, in search of his second man. The second man
was nowhere to be seen. He looked behind him for his attendant sprite.
Gooseberry had disappeared.
"What the devil does it mean?" said Mr. Bruff angrily. "They have both
left us at the very time when we want them most."
It came to the turn of the man in the grey suit to transact his business
at the counter. He paid in a cheque--received a receipt for it--and
turned to go out.
"What is to be done?" asked Mr. Bruff. "We can't degrade ourselves by
following him."
"I can!" I said. "I wouldn't lose sight of that man for ten thousand
pounds!"
"In that case," rejoined Mr. Bruff, "I wouldn't lose sight of you,
for twice the money. A nice occupation for a man in my position," he
muttered to himself, as we followed the stranger out of the bank. "For
Heaven's sake don't mention it. I should be ruined if it was known."
The man in the grey suit got into an omnibus, going westward. We got in
after him. There were latent reserves of youth still left in Mr.
Bruff. I assert it positively--when he took his seat in the omnibus, he
blushed!
The man in the grey suit stopped the omnibus, and got out in Oxford
Street.
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