Naturally the time went heavily with me. There was not one of my own
family or circle who could tell me of Alice, and none of her own folk
had, I am sorry to say, sufficient generosity to send me even an
occasional word of comfort regarding her health and well-being. I spent
six months wandering about Europe, but as I could find no satisfactory
distraction in travel, I determined to come to Paris, where, at least, I
would be within easy hail of London in case any good fortune should call
me thither before the appointed time. That 'hope deferred maketh the
heart sick' was never better exemplified than in my case, for in
addition to the perpetual longing to see the face I loved there was
always with me a harrowing anxiety lest some accident should prevent me
showing Alice in due time that I had, throughout the long period of
probation, been faithful to her trust and my own love. Thus, every
adventure which I undertook had a fierce pleasure of its own, for it was
fraught with possible consequences greater than it would have ordinarily
borne.

Like all travellers I exhausted the places of most interest in the first
month of my stay, and was driven in the second month to look for
amusement whithersoever I might. Having made sundry journeys to the
better-known suburbs, I began to see that there was a _terra incognita_,
in so far as the guide book was concerned, in the social wilderness
lying between these attractive points. Accordingly I began to
systematise my researches, and each day took up the thread of my
exploration at the place where I had on the previous day dropped it.

In the process of time my wanderings led me near Montrouge, and I saw
that hereabouts lay the Ultima Thule of social exploration--a country as
little known as that round the source of the White Nile. And so I