Presently the steps halted and he heard a match struck. The
stranger was evidently uncertain of his whereabouts. Then the
steps moved forward again and paused.
An expression of surprise crossed Loder's face, and he laid
down his pipe. As the visitor knocked, he walked quietly
across the room and opened the door.
The passage outside was dark, and the new-comer drew back
before the light from the room.
"Mr. Loder--?" he began, interrogatively. Then all at once he
laughed in embarrassed apology. "Forgive me," he said. "The
light rather dazzled me. I didn't realize who it was."
Loder recognized the voice as belonging to his acquaintance of
the fog.
"Oh, it's you!" he said. "Won't you come in?" His voice was
a little cold. This sudden resurrection left him surprised
--and not quite pleasantly surprised. He walked back to the
fireplace, followed by his guest.
The guest seemed nervous and agitated. "I must apologize for
the hour of my visit," he said. "My--my time is not quite my
own.
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