Summary

Arthur Train McClure's Magazine, Volume 25, Number 4… (1905)

They could hear a dull murmur of conversation, the cough was repeated, a bench dragged across a floor, some fastening was slowly loosed, and a yellow gleam of light shot up through the shadow as a scuttle opened in the sidewalk. A lean, scrawny figure thrust itself upward, sleepily rubbing its eyes, collarless, its shirt open at the breast, its hair tousled, coughing. Catherwood, now confident that he had the support of his companions, addressed the ghost, in whom he recognized Pedler, the journeyman from behind the curtains. The clubman's face, however, was concealed in shadow from the other.
Source: Wikisource

Arthur Train McClure's Magazine, Volume 25, Number 4… (1905)

Pondel made a depreciating gesture.
“We are always glad to serve you, sir!” he repeated as Wessons escorted the distinguished customer to the door.
“It's a great privilege to be employed by such a man as Mr. Pondel,” he whispered. “He thinks an enormous lot of you, sir. Very fine man—Mr. Pondel.”
As the hansom jogged rapidly towards the hotel, Catherwood reflected painfully upon the enormous sums of money that he annually transferred from his own pockets to those of the lordly tailor.
Source: Wikisource

Arthur Train McClure's Magazine, Volume 25, Number 4… (1905)

He had always regarded Catherwood, however, as a man of the world, and had esteemed him accordingly. He perceived that he had been mistaken: His customer was merely a religious crank. He had had experience with them before.
“Pooh! That's all right,” said he, resuming his former cordiality. “Why, they like to earn the extra money. They 're all devoted to my interests, you know.”
“Well, I don't want 'em to work any longer on my clothes,” repeated Catherwood helplessly.
“1 understand,” replied Mr. Pondel, rather loftily. “I'm afraid, however, it's too late to stop them now.
Source: Wikisource

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