But I alone was there to see him, the alley was
absolutely deserted, and desperately dark. At the further end he
opened a door with a latch-key, and it was darker yet within.
Instinctively I drew back and heard him chuckle. We could no
longer see each other.
"All right, Bunny! There's no hanky-panky this time. These are
studios, my friend, and I'm one of the lawful tenants."
Indeed, in another minute we were in a lofty room with skylight,
easels, dressing-cupboard, platform, and every other adjunct save
the signs of actual labor. The first thing I saw, as Raffles lit
the gas, was its reflection in his silk hat on the pegs beside
the rest of his normal garments.
"Looking for the works of art?" continued Raffles, lighting a
cigarette and beginning to divest himself of his rags. "I'm
afraid you won't find any, but there's the canvas I'm always
going to make a start upon. I tell them I'm looking high and low
for my ideal model. I have the stove lit on principle twice a
week, and look in and leave a newspaper and a smell of
Sullivans--how good they are after shag! Meanwhile I pay my rent
and am a good tenant in every way; and it's a very useful little
pied-a-terre--there's no saying how useful it might be at a
pinch. As it is, the billy-cock comes in and the topper goes
out, and nobody takes the slightest notice of either; at this
time of night the chances are that there's not a soul in the
building except ourselves.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61