"I am sorry to interrupt you at your dinner, Mr. Parker," he said, his eyes traveling all over the table as though taking in its appointments and condition. "Of no consequence at all," Mr. Parker assured him; "in fact I have nearly finished. If you are thinking of dining here let me recommend this chicken _en casserole_. I have tasted nothing so good for days!" Mr. Cullen thanked him mechanically. His mind, however, was obviously filled with other things. He was puzzled. "You must have a double about this evening, I fancy," he remarked. "I could have sworn I saw you coming out of a certain little house in Adam Street not a couple of minutes ago. You know the little house I mean?" Mr. Parker smiled. "Seems as though that double were all right," he said. "I am halfway through my dinner, as you can see, and I'm a slow eater--especially in pleasant company. Shake hands with my friend--Mr. Paul Walmsley, Mr. Cullen." My surprise at hearing my own name correctly given was only equaled by the admiration I also felt for my companion's complete and absolute assurance. Mr. Cullen and I exchanged a perfunctory handshake, which left me without any change in my feelings toward him. "Another of my mistakes, I suppose," Mr. Cullen said quietly. "I am afraid on this occasion, however, that I must trouble you, Mr. Parker. An affair of a few moments only. I won't even suggest Bow Street--at present. If you could take a stroll with me--even into Luigi's office would do." Mr. Parker put down his knife and fork with a little gesture of irritation. His broad, good-natured face was for the moment clouded. "Say, Cullen," he remonstrated, "don't you think you're carrying this a bit too far, you know? There isn't a man I enjoy a half-hour's chat with more than you; but in the middle of dinner--dinner with a friend too--" "I try to do my duty," Mr. Cullen interrupted, "and I am afraid that I am not at liberty to study your comfort." Mr. Parker sighed heavily. "Do you mind, Walmsley, having my plate kept warm and reminding the man that I ordered asparagus to follow?" my new friend remarked, as he rose to his feet. "Mr. Cullen wants a word or two with me in private, and Mr. Cullen is a man who will have his own way." I nodded as indifferently as possible and the two men walked off together toward the entrance. Then I summoned my waiter. "Bring me," I ordered, "a fresh portion of chicken and order some asparagus to follow. Keep my friend's chicken warm and order him some asparagus also."