And there, too, were the blinds--strong blue linen ones running on rings and cords--with which, as he had been told, it was possible to arrange the light as occasion required. They were fashioned somewhat after the manner of those seen in the studios of photographers--several sectional ones overhead and one long one for that side of the room which overlooked the short passage; and, as showing how minute was Cleek's inspection for all its seeming indifference, it may be remarked that he observed a peculiarity regarding that long blind which not one person in a hundred would have noticed. That is to say, that, whereas, when one looks at a window from the interior of a room, one invariably finds that the blinds are against the glass, and that the curtains are so hung as to be behind them when viewed from the street, here was a case of the exactly opposite arrangement being put into force; to wit: It was the lace curtains which hung against the window panes and the big blind which was next the room, so that, if pulled down, a person standing within would see no lace curtains at all, while at the same time they would remain distinctly visible to anybody standing without. If this small discrepancy called for any comment, Cleek made none audibly; merely glanced at the blind and glanced away again, and went on examining the books and the vases of flowers, and continued his apparently aimless wandering about the room. Of a sudden, however, he did a singular thing, one which was fraught with much significance to Mr. Narkom, who knew the "signs" so well. His wandering had brought him within touching distance of the busy waxworker, who, just at that moment, half turned and stretched forth his hand to pick up a tool which had fallen to the floor, the act of recovering which sent his wrist protruding a bit beyond the cuff of his working-blouse. What Narkom saw was the quick twitch of Cleek's eye in the direction of that hand, then its swift travelling to the man's face and travelling off again to other things; and he knew what was coming when his great ally began to pat his pockets and rummage about his person as if endeavouring to find something. "My luck!" said Cleek, with an impatient jerk of the head. "Not a blessed cigarette with me, Mr. Narkom; and you know what a duffer I am if I can't smoke when I'm trying to think. I say--nip out, will you, and get me a packet? There!"--scribbling something on a leaf from his notebook and pushing it into the superintendent's hand--"that's the brand I like. It's no use bringing me any other. Look 'em up for me, will you? There's a good friend."