y beautiful woman. On finding a visitor
in the room she became covered with confusion.

"Oh," she said, speaking in Hindustani. "Why did you not tell me there
was someone here?"

Adderley's reply was characteristically brutal.

"Get out," he said. "You fool."

I turned to go, for I was conscious of an intense desire to attack my
host. But:

"Don't go, Knox, don't go!" he cried. "I am sorry, I am damned sorry,
I------"

He paused, and looked at me in a queer sort of appealing way. The girl,
her big eyes widely open, retreated again to the door, with curious
lithe steps, characteristically Oriental. The door regained, she paused
for a moment and extended one small hand in Adderley's direction.

"I hate you," she said slowly, "hate you! Hate you!"

She went out, quietly closing the door behind her. Adderley turned to me
with an embarrassed laugh.

"I know you think I am a brute and an outsider," he said, "and perhaps I
am. Everybody says I am, so I suppose there must be something in it.
But if ever a man paid for his mistakes I have paid for mine, Knox. Good
God, I haven't a friend in the world."

"You probably don't deserve one," I retorted.

"I know I don't, and that's the tragedy of it," he replied. "You may
not believe it, Knox; I don't expect anybody to believe me; but for more
than a year I have been walking on the edge of Hell. Do you know where I
have been since I saw you last?"

I shook my head in answer.

"I have been half round the world, Knox, trying to find peace."

"You don't know where to look for it," I said.

"If only you knew," he whispered. "If only you knew," and sank down upon
the settee, ruffling his hair with his hands and looking the picture of
haggard misery. Seeing that I was still set upon departure:

"Hold on a bit, Knox," he implored. "Don't go yet. There is something I
want to ask you, something very important."

He crossed to a sideboard and mixed himself a stiff whisky-and-soda. He
asked me to join him, but I refused.

"Won't you sit down again?"

I shook my head.

"You came to my place at Katong once," he began abruptly. "I was damned
drunk, I admit it. But something happened, do you remember?"

I nodded.

"This is what I want to ask you: Did you, or did you not, see that
shadow?"

I stared him hard in the face.

"I remember the episode to which you refer," I replied. "I certainly saw
a shadow."

"But what sort of shadow?"

"To me it seemed an indefinite,