CHAPTER XVIII

THE FACE IN THE PICTURE MR. SAMPSON LONGVALE was taking a gentle constitutional on the strip of path before his untidy house. He wore, as usual—for he was a creature of habit—a long, grey silk dressing-gown, fastened by a scarlet sash. On his head was his silk nightcap, and between his teeth a clay churchwarden pipe, which he puffed solemnly as he walked. He had just bidden a courteous good night to the help who came in daily to tidy his living-rooms and prepare his simple meals, when he heard the sound of feet com…