At 8:45 he haled me off to the office, which stood a brief distance away, in a thoroughfare called Great Queen street. Here he left me awhile, bidding me walk up and down and observe life until his chief should arrive, which he was due to do at the half-hour. I thought it a dull street after some I had seen, but there were many old book and curiosity shops in it that aroused my interest. While I was looking into one of them I heard Duke call. “Here,” he said, when I reached him; “answer out and I think Ripley will give you work. I’m rather a favorite with him--that’s the truth.” He led me into a low-browed room, with a counter. Great bales of print and paper went up to the ceiling at the back, and the floor rumbled with the clank of subterranean machinery. One or two clerks were about and wedged into a corner of the room was a sort of glazed and wooden crate of comfortable proportions, which was, in fact, the chapel of ease of the minister of the place. Into this den Duke conducted me with ceremony, and, retreating himself, left me almost tumbling over a bald-headed man, with a matted black beard, on which a protruding red upper lip lay like a splash of blood, who sat at a desk writing. “Shut the door,” he said, without looking up. “It is shut, sir.” He trailed a glance at me, as if in scrutiny, but I soon saw he could only have been balancing some phrase, for he dived again and went on writing. Presently he said, very politely, indeed, and still intent on his paper: “Are you a cadet of the noble family of Kinsale, sir?” “No, sir,” I answered, in surprise. “You haven’t the right to remain covered in the presence of the king?” “No, sir.” “Well, I’m king here. What the blazes do you mean by standing in a private room with your hat on?” I plucked it off, tingling. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Mr. Straw brought me in so suddenly, I lost my head and my cap went with it, I suppose. But I see it’s not the only thing one may lose here, including tempers!” And with that I turned on my heel and was about to beat a retreat, fuming. “Come back!” shouted Mr. Ripley. “If you go now, you go for good!” I hesitated; the memory of my late comrade restored my equilibrium. “I didn’t mean to be rude, sir,” I said. “I shall be grateful to you if you will give me work.” He had condescended to turn now, and was looking full at me with frowning eyes, but with no sign of anger on his face. “Well, you can speak out,” he said. “How do you come to know Straw?” “I met him by chance and we got talking together.” “How long have you been in London?” “Since yesterday evening.” “Why did you leave Winton?” “To get work.” “Have you brought a character with you?” Here was a question to ask a Trender! But I answered, “No, I never thought of it,” with perfect truth. “What can you do?” “Anything I’m told, sir.” “That’s a compromising statement, my friend. Can you read and write?” “Yes, of course.” “Anything else?” “Nothing.”