Lucius went straight to Mr. Agar’s office—a little wedge-shaped box of a place squeezed corner-wise off a larger shop, for space was precious in the Shadrack-road. In this small temple of industry, Mr. Agar professed himself ready to value property, survey estates, sell by auction, let lands, houses, or apartments, collect rents, and even at a push to undertake the conduct of genteel funerals. Here Lucius found him—a busy little man, with a bald head, and an ear that had been pushed into high relief by having a pen continually stuck behind it. ‘Pray, what can I do for you, sir?’ he asked, with his fingers in his order-book, ready to write an order to view any species of property within a ten-mile radius of the Shadrack-road. ‘I want to ask you a few questions about a house in which I am interested.’ ‘As an intending tenant, sir, or purchaser?’ inquired Mr. Agar, turning round upon his high stool, and nursing his leg, in an attitude which was at once easy and inviting to confidence. ‘Certainly not as a tenant, for the house is let.’ ‘As a purchaser, then?’ exclaimed Mr. Agar, stimulated by the vision of five per cent. ‘Have we’—a very grand we—‘advertised the property?’ ‘No, Mr. Agar; nor have I any reason to suppose that it is for sale.’ ‘But you think that we might negotiate something—make a speculative offer—eh?’ inquired the agent briskly. ‘My dear sir, in any delicate little matter of that kind, you may rely upon my discretion—and I think I may venture to say, upon my diplomatic powers.’ ‘I want you to answer two or three plain questions, Mr. Agar—that is all. Some years ago you let Cedar House to my friend and patient, Mr. Sivewright.’ ‘Cedar House—dear me, that is really curious; not an attractive property, one would think—no frontage to speak of—house out of repair, and yet—’ ‘And yet what, Mr. Agar?’ ‘Let me answer your inquiries first, sir.’ ‘In the first place, then, to whom does the house belong?’ ‘To two old maiden ladies, who reside in Paris. Their grandfather was a great man in the City—a brassfounder, I believe—and lived at Cedar House in very grand style, but not within the memory of anybody now living. The house has degenerated since his day, but it is still a valuable property. As a public institution, now, it would offer great advantages; or it might be made the nucleus of a large fortune to a medical practitioner in the shape of a private lunatic asylum,’ added the agent, with a sharp glance at Lucius. ‘Mr. Agar, I am bound to inform you that I am not on the look-out for a house for the purpose you suggest. But I am very curious to know all about Cedar House. When you let it to Mr. Sivewright were you aware of a secret staircase, which ascends from an outbuilding at the back to the first floor?’ ‘And to the attic floor,’ said the agent. ‘What, does it go higher than the first floor?’