Even without an inquest, he saw that the affair would be unthinkably distressing.  He felt that it would kill him, and he put his hand to his face.

“Where are Mr. Farll’s relatives to be found?” the doctor asked.

“Mr. Farll’s relatives?” Priam Farll repeated without comprehending.

Then he understood.  Dr. Cashmore thought that Henry Leek’s name was Farll!  And all the sensitive timidity in Priam Farll’s character seized swiftly at the mad chance of escape from any kind of public appearance as Priam Farll.  Why should he not let it be supposed that he, and not Henry Leek, had expired suddenly in Selwood Terrace at 5 a.m.  He would be free, utterly free!

“Yes,” said the doctor.  “They must be informed, naturally.”

Priam’s mind ran rapidly over the catalogue of his family.  He could think of no one nearer than a certain Duncan Farll, a second cousin.

“I don’t think he had any,” he replied in a voice that trembled with excitement at the capricious rashness of what he was doing.  “Perhaps there were distant cousins.  But Mr. Farll never talked of them.”

Which was true.

He could scarcely articulate the words ‘Mr Farll.’  But when they were out of his mouth he felt that the deed was somehow definitely done.

The doctor gazed at Priam’s hands, the rough, coarsened hands of a painter who is always messing in oils and dust.

“Pardon me,” said the doctor.  “I presume you are his valet—­or—­”

“Yes,” said Priam Farll.

That set the seal.

“What was your master’s full name?” the doctor demanded.

And Priam Farll shivered.

“Priam Farll,” said he weakly.

“Not the—?” loudly exclaimed the doctor, whom the hazards of life in London had at last staggered.

Priam nodded.

“Well, well!” The doctor gave vent to his feelings.  The truth was that this particular hazard of life in London pleased him, flattered him, made him feel important in the world, and caused him to forget his fatigue and his wrongs.

He saw that the puce dressing-gown contained a man who was at the end of his tether, and with that good nature of his which no hardships had been able to destroy, he offered to attend to the preliminary formalities.  Then he went.

A Month’s Wages

Priam Farll had no intention of falling asleep; his desire was to consider the position which he had so rashly created for himself; but he did fall asleep—­and in the hard chair!  He was awakened by a tremendous clatter, as if the house was being bombarded and there were bricks falling about his ears.  When he regained all his senses this bombardment resolved itself into nothing but a loud and continued assault on the front door.  He rose, and saw a frowsy, dishevelled, puce-coloured figure in the dirty mirror over the fireplace.  And then, with stiff limbs, he directed his sleepy feet towards the door.