THE WHEELS OF CHANCE
pass out of sight up the street. Incontinently a mass of cloudy uneasiness that had been partly dispelled during the day, reappeared and concentrated rapidly into definite suspicion. He put his screw hammer into his pocket, and walked through the archway into the street to settle the business forthwith, for he prided himself on his decision. Hoopdriver was merely promenading, and they met face to face.
At the sight of his adversary, something between disgust and laughter seized Mr. Hoopdriver and for a moment destroyed his animosity. "'Ere we are again!" he said, laughing insincerely in a sudden outbreak at the perversity of chance.
The other man in brown stopped short in Mr. Hoopdriver's way, staring. Then his face assumed an expression of dangerous civility. "Is it any information to you," he said with immense politeness, "when I remark that you are following us?"
Mr. Hoopdriver, for some occult reason, resisted his characteristic impulse to apologise. He wanted to annoy the other man in brown, and a sentence that had come into his head in a previous rehearsal cropped up appropriately. "Since when," said Mr. Hoopdriver, catching his breath, yet bringing the question out valiantly nevertheless,—"since when 'ave you purchased the county of Sussex?"
"May I point out," said the other man in brown, "that I object—we object not only to your proximity to us. To be frank—you appear to be following us—with an object."
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