While Hench took his bath and dressed slowly, he wondered if by chance the boy had hit the mark. It did appear to be strange that a well-to-do and fashionable young man should come and live amidst such sordid surroundings. Spruce's story of gathering material for a novel was plausible enough, yet somehow it did not ring true. Hench, as the Nut thought with some degree of truth, was a very simple and unsuspicious person, but he was not quite such a fool as Mr. Spruce imagined him to be. Affable as the young man had been, and pleased as he was with his old schoolfellow's offer of pecuniary aid, he could not bring himself to like the Cherub. His dandified dress, his mincing ways, his gorgeous array and use of perfume, irritated the rough-and-ready manhood of Hench. He sensed something poisonous about the little man, and resolved very rightly to be wary in his dealings with him. Moreover, Spruce was altogether too curious about matters which did not concern him, though why he should be so Hench was unable to say. The Nut had made himself acquainted with the affairs of every one in the house since his arrival, and knew much which could not possibly interest him. However, if he had come to Bethnal Green to plot and contrive, it would be a case of diamond cut diamond, for Hench guessed that Bottles would keep his eye on the little man's doings. And the eye of Bottles was sharp, while the brain of Bottles was keen; so the schemes of Mr. Spruce would be baffled in the end, always presuming that he really had any. "But it's all bosh," said Hench aloud to himself, as he made ready to go down to breakfast. "Spruce has come here to write a book, and it's silly of me to make a mountain out of a molehill. I daresay he'll grow tired of this dull life here and cut away back to the West End. Upon my word I shan't be sorry when he goes. Strange that Bottles should dislike him so thoroughly. He's a sharp lad, is Bottles, and doesn't usually make mistakes." Having unloaded his mind in this soliloquy, Hench descended to breakfast and enjoyed that meal all alone, as he was late and every one was out. Spruce, indeed, was having breakfast in his room, and of this Hench was glad, as he always liked to read the newspaper while drinking his coffee. This would have been impossible had such a chattering magpie as the Nut been present. But he did not escape the attentions of his old schoolfellow entirely, for Spruce made his appearance just as he finished eating. The Nut wore a suit of cream-coloured serge with a black necktie, black boots, black gloves, and a black hat of soft felt. Hench stared. "I say, you look like a negative," he remonstrated. "Don't go out in that get-up or you'll be mobbed." "Oh, no," said Spruce smoothly; "only pointed at. I'm accustomed to that, as I have put on a different suit every day since coming here. It must be a pleasure for these Bethnal Green rotters to see a well-dressed man."