ong,
crowded dining-room, alone at my small table, my heart began to beat
again warmly at the thought of the new venture before me. To-night?
What would it bring forth? Should I find her? The vitalising breath of
excitement began to creep through me. I finished my dinner hurriedly,
swallowed my black coffee at a draught, and made my way down the room
and out to the hall, putting on my hat and coat as I went. I found the
guide I had asked for when I first arrived at the hotel waiting for
me. He asked me mysteriously if I had put away my watch and divested
myself of all jewellery, and I told him impatiently I had and showed
him a small revolver I always carried. When he was somewhat reassured
I took the paper that Suzee had sent me out of my pocket and showed it
to him.

"That's where I want to go," I said, "and if you know every hole and
cranny of the place as I was told, I suppose you know that one."

The guide grinned as he read the name.

"It's the worst place in the whole town," he remarked with a sort of
admiring unction. I evidently went up in his estimation as he
recognised the acumen I had shewed in my choice. I was a visitor
worthy of his guidance, and he was put upon his mettle.

"The police don't dare to go there, but they'll let me in day or
night."

We had reached the door now and stepped into the street. The fog had
had its frolic down town, it seemed and had almost disappeared,
rolling off to the sand dunes and the sea whence it had come. The
night was dark and fresh with the damp saltness of the shore; a few
stars shone above. The shops were still open, and their huge
plate-glass windows blazed with light. We walked rapidly through these
streets towards the Chinese quarter where the noise and light ceased.
The streets were quiet and empty and seemed very clean. The shops here
were closed. The lights few. There was a fever of impatience in my
veins. I felt as when one is drawing near to an unknown combat: a
conflict the nature of which and ultimate result one does not know.

My rather shambling guide seemed amused at the pace at which I walked
and giggled immoderately between remarks of his own which seemed to
him to be appropriate to the occasion. I hardly heard him. At one
moment I was lost in a bitter reflection of how many excursions and
similar wanderings Viola had shared with me; at another, my mind
seemed leaping eagerly forward, to seize this new joy in front of me.

"That's a joss-house,