"Is that a threat?" inquired White, growing visibly paler, and glancing nervously towards the door. "No, it is only the expression of a personal opinion," I replied. At this moment the door opened, and M'Dermott appeared. "Well, are you coming with the keys? We are getting tired of waiting," he inquired. "This man," said I, pointing with scorn at the abject carriage-builder, "now refuses to let me the shop on the ground that he disapproves of revolutionary literature." M'Dermott gave a low whistle, "Oh, that's how the wind blows, is it?" he remarked; "I thought I saw some 'narks' hanging round. So this is the turn your benevolent interest in my grand-daughter has taken? Well, come along, Isabel, we have no time to waste, and I am sure this good gentleman will not feel comfortable till we are off the premises. He is afraid we might waste some dynamite on him, I do believe." At the word dynamite White seized a bell-pull and rang it violently, and we could not help laughing heartily, as we left the office, at his evident terror. Whilst crossing the yard we saw two well-known detectives lurking on the premises. White had evidently thought it necessary to take precautions against possible outrage. We found Kosinski patiently waiting. He did not seem much surprised at our news, and in answer to my inquiry as to what on earth we were to do, he suggested that we should take the barrow back to Slater's Mews, and then resume our search for a shop. This advice was so obvious and tame that it almost surprised me coming from him, still there was nothing for it, and back we went, looking somewhat more bedraggled (it had now come on to rain) and decidedly crestfallen. We found Short as we had left him, but I was still too indignant at his conduct to deign to answer his inquiries. I was tired and worried, and could almost have wept with annoyance. Kosinski at last came to the rescue. When he had brought the last parcel up the stairs and deposited it on the floor he came up to me. "If you like we might go and look at a workshop I have heard of and which might suit. Some German comrades rented it for some time; I believe they used it as a club-room, but I dare say it would answer your purpose, and I believe it is still unoccupied." Of course I readily assented; it was indeed a relief to hear of some definite proposal, and together we set off. Little M'Dermott, who evidently did not much relish Short's company, armed himself with leaflets and set off on a propagandising expedition, and Kosinski and I wended our way in search of the office. At last we stopped in front of a little green-grocer's shop in a side street off the Hampstead Road. "The place I mean is behind here," explained Kosinski; "the woman in the shop lets it; we will go in and speak with her." Kosinski stepped inside and addressed a voluminous lady who emerged from the back shop. "Oh, good day, Mr. Cusins," she exclaimed, a broad smile overspreading her face; "what can I do for you?"