An Old Flame
The square shall be nameless, but if you drive due west from Piccadilly the cab-
man will eventually find it on his left, and he ought to thank you for two shillings. It
is not a fashionable square, but there are few with a finer garden, while the
studios on the south side lend distinction of another sort. The houses, however,
are small and dingy, and about the last to attract the expert practitioner in search
of a crib. Heaven knows it was with no such thought I trailed Raffles thither, one
unlucky evening at the latter end of that same season, when Dr. Theobald had at
last insisted upon the bath-chair which I had foreseen in the beginning. Trees
whispered in the green garden aforesaid, and the cool, smooth lawns looked so
inviting that I wondered whether some philanthropic resident could not be
induced to lend us the key. But Raffles would not listen to the suggestion, when I
stopped to make it, and what was worse, I found him looking wistfully at the little
"Such balconies, Bunny! A leg up, and there you would be!"
I expressed a conviction that there would be nothing worth taking in the square,
but took care to have him under way again as I spoke.
"I daresay you're right," sighed Raffles. "Rings and watches, I suppose, but it
would be hard luck to take them from people who live in houses like these. I don't
know, though. Here's one with an extra story. Stop, Bunny; if you don't stop I'll
hold on to the railings! This is a good house; look at the knocker and the electric
bell. They've had that put in. There's some money here, my rabbit! I dare bet
there's a silver-table in the drawing-room; and the windows are wide open.
Electric light, too, by Jove!"