"An excellent example of the truth of the old saying that you should never
judge by appearances, Andie, my man!" remarked Purdie, as they took a
quick view of the place. "Who'd imagine that crime, dark secrets, and all
the rest of it lies concealed behind this?--behind the promise of tea and
muffins, milk and buns! It's a queer world, this London!--you never know
what lies behind any single bit of the whole microcosm. But let's see
what's to be seen inside."
The first thing to be seen inside the ground floor room into which they
stepped was the man from New Scotland Yard, who, in company with another
very ordinary-looking individual was seated at a little table just inside
the entrance, leisurely consuming coffee and beef sandwiches. He glanced
at the two men as if he had never seen them in his life, and they,
preserving equally stolid expressions with credit if not with the
detective's ready and trained ability, passed further on--only to
recognize Levendale and Stephen Purvis, who had found accommodation in a
quiet corner half-way down the room. They, too, showed no signs of
recognition, and Purdie, passing by them, steered his companion to an
unoccupied table and bade him be seated.
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