There's a man dying—Captain Darrell. . My lads," he continued, addressing the partners; "when you've finished this job give that fellow a fresh set of darbies. In the genuinely dissipated face there was always a suggestion of slyness in ambush, peeping out of the wrinkles around the eyes and the lips. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. The land about these walls is a common graveyard.
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