By the curious effect
of circumstances the likeness between the two men had never
been more significantly marked than on that morning of April
19th, when Loder walked along the pavements crowded with early
workers and brisk with insistent news-venders already alive
to the value of last night's political crisis.
The irony of this last element in the day's concerns came to
him fully when one newsboy, more energetic than his fellows,
thrust a paper in front of him.
"Sensation in the 'Ouse, sir! Speech by Mr. Chilcote!
Government defeat!"
For a moment Loder stopped and his face reddened. The tide of
emotions still ran strong. His hand went instinctively to his
pocket; then his lips set. He shook his head and walked on.
With the same hard expression about his mouth, he turned into
Clifford's Inn, passed through his own doorway, and mounted
the stairs.
This time there was no milk-can on the threshold of his rooms
and the door yielded to his pressure without the need of a
key. With a strange sensation of reluctance he walked into
the narrow passage and paused, uncertain which room to enter
first.
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