she saw that this man looked upon her with different eyes from the other
men she knew; and the memory of her strange fancy earlier in the summer
gave her the key suddenly to his rather curious manner of bidding her
farewell.

With a foolish, but purely womanly, impulse of compassion, she spoke
again, laying her hand for a second on his arm with a friendliness which
no man could have misunderstood.

"No, Dr. Anstice. Not good-bye. We shall meet again to-morrow, at any
rate; so let us just say--_au revoir!_"

The kind little hand, the friendly words, almost broke down Anstice's
self-control.

With a huge effort he kept his voice steady; but his face was grey as he
answered her.

"If you wish, Miss Wayne--from the bottom of my heart let it
be--only--_au revoir!_"

* * * * *

And Fate, who foresaw in what wise their next meeting should take place,
probably chuckled to herself, like the malignant lady she can be, at
this parting between the two who might have been lovers but for a
miscalculated shot in the days gone by.

* * * * *

When Anstice had finished his day's work it was barely seven o'clock.
Fortunately for him he had no very serious cases on his hands just now,
and there was no need, save in the event of an urgent call, for him to
go out again when he had eaten his solitary dinner.

He was thankful for the respite, for the strain of the last few weeks,
the weeks of Iris' engagement, had been severe; and mind and body were
alike overtasked and weary. For several days he had suffered from a
severe neuralgic headache, and to-night the torture in head and eyes
threatened to overwhelm him.

For three or four nights he had hardly slept; and on more than one
occasion he had thought, with a queer, detached interest, of the relief
which morphia might bring to his tormented nerves; but with the thought
came another--the picture of Iris Wayne who had bidden him remember that
this was not the way out of the tragic muddle into which his life had
been plunged by his own action.

She had believed him when he told her he would not again deliver himself
into bondage to the fatal drug, and although he had not given her his
promise--foreseeing even then the possibility of this black hour--he had
meant, at the moment, to turn his back for ever on the seductive thing
which whispers such sweet, such deliriously fatal promises to the man in
the clutch of any ag