And all these persons behaved in an odd, Continental way, and played
bowls on the lawn at the back of the house on Sundays. The neighbors
could hear them but could see nothing, owing to the thickness of the
grimy trees and the height of the old brick wall. But no one worried
much about the Signal House; for they were a busy people who lived all
around, and had to earn their living, in addition to the steady and
persistent assuagement of a thirst begotten of cement dust and the
pungent smell of bone manure. One or two local amateurs had made sure
of the fact that there was nothing in the house that would repay a
burglarious investigation, which, added to the fact that the police
station is only a few doors off, tended to allay a natural curiosity as
to the foreign gentleman's possessions.
When he came he drove in a close cab from Gravesend Station, and usually
told the cabman when his services would again be required. He came
thus with three friends one summer afternoon, some years ago, and came
without luggage. The servants, who followed in a second cab, carried
some parcels, presumably of refreshments. These grave gentlemen were,
it appeared, about to enjoy a picnic at the Signal House--possibly a
tea-picnic in the Russian fashion.
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