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Finally, in sheer _ennui_ he had thrown open a door, and looked
to see what lay beyond.
"Ha, ha!" he cried. "All is discovered. See! Here sits Peter Stirling,
the ward politician, enthroned in Jeffersonian simplicity. But here,
behind the arras, sits Peter Stirling, the counsellor of banks and
railroads, in the midst of all the gorgeousness of the golden East."
Watts passed into the room beyond.
"What does he mean, Peter?"
"He has gone into my study. Would you like--"
He was interrupted by Watts calling, "Come in here, Dot, and see how the
unsociable old hermit bestows himself."
So Leonore and Peter followed Watts's lead. The room into which they
went was rather a curious one. It was at least twenty-five feet square,
having four windows, two looking out on Broadway, and two on the side
street. It had one other door besides that by which they had entered.
Here the ordinary quality ended. Except for the six openings already
noted and a large fireplace, the walls were shelved from floor to
ceiling (which was not a low one), with dusky oak shelving.


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