Logotheti, on the other hand, was as yet unaware that Lushington was

the 'some one else' of whom Margaret had spoken twice with evident

feeling. The consequence was that when the Englishman began to give

himself the bitter satisfaction of watching Logotheti, the latter was

very far from suspecting such a thing, and took no pains at all to hide

his doings; and Lushington established himself in Paris and watched

him, in his coming and going, and nursed his jealousy into hatred and

his hatred into action.

He would not have stooped to employ any one in such work, for that

would have seemed like an insult to Margaret, and a piece of cowardice

into the bargain. The time would come when the astute Greek would

discover that he was followed, and Lushington had no intention of

putting some one else in his shoes when that time came; on the

contrary, he looked forward with all a real Englishman's cool

self-confidence to the explanation that must take place some day. But

he wished to remain undiscovered as long as possible.

He had gone back to his old rooms in the Hôtel des Saints Pères, but in

order to disappear more effectually from his acquaintances he took a

lodging, and walked to it, after sending on his belongings. On his way

he stopped at a quiet barber's shop and had his beard and moustache

shaved off. After that it was not likely that any of his acquaintances

would recognise him, but he took further steps towards completing his

disguise by making radical and painful changes in his dress. He bought

ready-made French clothes, he put on a pair of square kid boots with

elastic sides and patent leather tips, he wore a soft silk cravat

artificially tied in a bow knot with wide and floating ends, and he

purchased a French silk hat with a broad and curving brim. Having

satisfied himself that the effect was good, he laid in a stock of

similar articles, and further adorned his appearance with a pair of

tortoise-shell-rimmed spectacles, and a green umbrella. For possibly

cool or rainy weather he provided himself with a coffee-coloured

overcoat that had a velvet collar and tails reaching almost to the

ground.

When he had been younger Lushington had tried in vain to ruffle his

naturally excessive neatness, but he now realised that he had only

lacked the courage to make a thorough change. In his present costume he

ran no risk of being taken for a smart English lounger, nor for a

French dandy. The effect of forgetting to shave, too, was frightful,

for in forty-eight hours his fair face was covered with shiny bristles

that had a positively metallic look. Though he was so unlike his mother

in most ways, he must have inherited a little of the theatrical

instinct from her, for he wore his disguise as easily as if he had

always been used to it.




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