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A little way down the road Greigstein stopped and said something to his rusty-looking companion, then he turned aside from the main road and disappeared into the woods. The small man with the parchment face and the inscrutable expression sauntered on thoughtfully till he reached the lodge gates of Stanmere. With his hands behind him he strolled along very much with the air of one who possesses the place. The butler who answered the ring fell into an attitude of deference before the little man in the rusty black, for this was Mr. James Martlett, the family lawyer, and a power in the land.
Nobody knew anything about Mr. Martlett, who he was or whence he came, but most people knew that he was an exceedingly rich lawyer, who for the last thirty years had lived dingily in Lincoln's Inn.