Some of the seats were already occupied by gentlemen and ladies who had apparently been using them in preference to an hotel, but as luck would have it the one opposite George’s house was empty.  I seated myself in the corner, and after cutting and lighting a cigar with the care that such an excellent brand deserved, I prepared to beguile my wait by reading the D.T.

Nothing particularly thrilling seemed to have been happening in the world, but I can’t say I felt any sense of disappointment.  Just at present my own life afforded me all the excitement my system needed.  The only important item of news that I could find was a rather offensive speech by the German Chancellor with reference to the dispute with England.  It was a surprising utterance for a statesman in his position, and the Telegraph had improved the occasion by writing one of its longest and stateliest leaders on provocative politicians.

I had just finished reading this effort when George appeared.  He came out of the front door and down the steps of his house, dressed as usual in a well-fitting frock-coat and tall hat, such as he had always affected in the old days.  I stared at him with a sort of hungry satisfaction.  He looked pale and harassed, and he carried his head bent forward like a man whose mind was unpleasantly preoccupied.  It warmed my heart to see him.

When he had gone some little way along the pavement, I got up from my seat and began to keep pace with him on the other side of the roadway.  It was easy work, for he walked slowly, and stared at the ground as though fully taken up with his own thoughts.  I was not the least frightened of his recognizing me, but as a matter of fact he never even looked across in my direction.

We marched along in this fashion as far as Vauxhall Bridge Road, where George turned up to the left in the direction of Victoria Street.  I walked on a bit, so as to allow him to get about a hundred yards ahead, and then coming back followed in his track.  As he drew nearer to the station I began to close up the gap, and all the way along Victoria Street I was only about ten yards behind him.  It was tantalizing work, for he was just the right distance for a running kick.

The offices of our firm, which I had originally chosen myself, are on the first floor, close to the Army and Navy Stores.  George turned in at the doorway and went straight up, and for a moment I stood in the entrance, contemplating the big brass plate with “Lyndon and Marwood” on it, and wondering what to do next.  It seemed odd to think of all that had happened since I had last climbed those stairs.

Exactly across the road was a restaurant.  It was new since my time, but I could see that there was a table in the window on the first floor, which must command a fair view of the houses opposite, so I determined to adopt it as a temporary scouting ground.  I walked over and pushed open the swinging doors.  Inside was a sleepy-looking waiter in his shirt-sleeves engaged in the leisurely pursuit of rolling up napkins.