“Well, who made me one?” the man burst out; “you answer me that.” “Are you coming in?” “Yes, I am.” He came, and Granter shut the door behind him. It was like inviting a snake or a mad dog into one’s parlour; but the memory of having been laughed at was so fresh within him that he rather welcomed the sensation. “Now,” he said, “have the kindness!” and opened the drawing-room door. The man slunk in, blinking in the stronger light. Granter went towards his wife, who was standing before the fire. “This gentleman has an important communication to make to you, it seems.” The expression of her face struck him as peculiar--surely she was not frightened! And he experienced a kind of pleasure in seeing them both look so exquisitely uncomfortable. “Well,” he said ironically, “perhaps you’d like me not to listen.” And, going back to the door, he stood leaning against it with his hands up to his ears. He saw the fellow give him a furtive look and go nearer to her; his lips moved rapidly, hers answered, and he thought: ‘What on earth am I covering my ears for?’ He took his hands away, and the man turned round. “I’m goin’ now, mister; a little mistake--sorry to ’ave troubled you.” His wife had turned to the fire again; and with a puzzled feeling Granter opened the door. As the fellow passed he took him by the arm, twisted him round into the study, and, locking the door, put the key into his pocket. “Now then,” he said, “you precious scoundrel!” The man shifted on his broken boots. “Don’t you hit me, guv’nor, I got a knife here.” “I’m not going to hit you. I’m going to hand you over to the police.” The man’s eyes roved, looking for a way of escape; then rested, as if fascinated, on the glowing hearth. “What’s ten pounds?” he said suddenly; “you’d never ha’ missed it.” Granter smiled. “You don’t seem to realise, my friend, that blackmail is the most devilish crime a man can commit.” And he crossed over to the telephone. The man’s eyes, dark, restless, violent, and yet hungry, began to shift up and down the building of a man before him. “No,” he said suddenly, with a sort of pathos, “don’t do that, guv’nor!” The look of his eyes, or the tone of his voice, affected Granter. “But if I don’t,” he said slowly, “you’ll be blackmailing the next person you meet. You’re as dangerous as a viper.” The man’s lips quivered; he covered them with his hand, and said from behind it: “I’m a man like yourself. I’m down and out--that’s all. Look at me!” Granter’s glance dwelt on the trembling hand. “Yes, but you fellows destroy all belief in human nature,” he said vehemently.