yet I cannot grasp it--ah!
why! could it _possibly_ be----"

He rose as he spoke and crossed to a massive bookcase packed to
overflowing with books, switched on a light hanging near, opened the
glass door and ran his hand lovingly over the leather volumes.

Then he very gently laid his hand on his left shoulder and turned with
a smile lighting up his face, which abruptly went blank in astonishment.

"Upon my word," he said, "whatever made me think that Jan had come in
and had put his hand upon my shoulder. Old fool that I am to-night."

For a moment he stood looking into the shadowy corners, then turned
again to the case, ran his finger along a row of books until he came to
one with the title "India," pulled it out and opened it under the light.

The book opened quite suddenly and wide, and his eyes fell on the first
few lines. Without a movement he stood staring down at the printed
words, reading to the end of the page, then he violently closed the
book, thrust it back into the case, and closing the doors, pressed
against them with both hands as though in an endeavour to keep back
something which was trying to get out.

"No! my God! No! never! not that--not _that_ as an end--not for _that_
baby--and yet----"

He moved across to the desk, sank heavily like a very old man into his
chair and covered his face with his hands.

Then very slowly and as though against his will he uncovered his face,
and leaning forward stared across to the bookcase whilst he groped for
the pen beside the book.

"And the cure," he muttered, "the remedy--I _must_ find it--I--I----"

His heart was thudding heavily with the merest suspicion of a complete
pause between the beats, his hand trembled almost imperceptibly, whilst
his eyes glanced questioningly this way and that.

"I don't understand, I don't understand!" he whispered, just like a
frightened child as he plucked at his collar and moved his head quickly
from side to side as though trying to loosen some stranglehold about
his neck.

He turned and stared unseeingly into the fire with the look of
perplexity deepening on his face, then slowly he raised his eyes, first
to the delicate tracings of the Adams mantelpiece, then to the varied
ornaments on the shelf.

"Tish!" he said impatiently as they roved from the central figure of
benign undisturbed Buddha, to a snake of brass holding a candle, and on
to a blatant and grotesque dragon from China.

For a second he stared unco