The
old-fashioned window-casings had been replaced by a modern door newly
painted and standing partly open. Perhaps Muffles had given up the bar
and was living here alone with his children.
I pushed open the door and stepped into the old-fashioned hall. This,
too, had undergone changes. The lantern was missing, and some modern
furniture stood against the walls. The bar where Bowser had dispensed
his beverages and from behind which he had brought his drawings had been
replaced by a long mahogany counter with marble top, the sideboard being
filled with cut glass and the more expensive appointments of a modern
establishment. The tables and chairs were also of mahogany; and a new
red carpet covered the floor. The proprietor was leaning against the
counter playing with his watch-chain--a short man with a bald head. A
few guests were sitting about, reading or smoking.
"What's become of Mulford," I asked; "Dick Mulford, who used to be
here?"
The man shook his head.
"Why, yes, you must have known him--some of his friends called him
Muffles.
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