her veil notwithstanding, I could see that she was looking at me
steadily; was, in fact, watching me intently and with a very curious
expression--an expression of expectancy mingled with alarm. But this was
not all. As I returned her intent look--which I could do unobserved,
since my face, reflected in the mirror, was in deep shadow--I suddenly
perceived that that steady gaze engaged her right eye only; the other
eye was looking sharply towards her left shoulder. In short, she had a
divergent squint of the left eye.

I put down my cup with a thrill of amazement and a sudden surging up of
suspicion and alarm. An instant's reflection reminded me that when she
had spoken to me a few moments before, both her eyes had looked into
mine without the slightest trace of a squint. My thoughts flew back to
the lump of sugar, to the unguarded milk-jug and the draught of tea that
I had already swallowed; and, hardly knowing what I intended, I started
to my feet and turned to confront her. But as I rose, she snatched up
her change and darted from the shop. Through the glass door, I saw her
spring on to the foot-board of a passing hansom and give the driver some
direction. I saw the man whip up his horse, and, by the time I reached
the door, the cab was moving off swiftly towards Sloane Street.

I stood irresolute. I had not paid and could not run out of the shop
without making a fuss, and my hat and stick were still on the rail
opposite my seat. The woman ought to be followed, but I had no fancy for
the task. If the tea that I had swallowed was innocuous, no harm was
done and I was rid of my pursuer. So far as I was concerned, the
incident was closed. I went back to my seat, and picking up the lump of
sugar which still lay on the table where I had dropped it, put it
carefully in my pocket. But my appetite for tea was satisfied for the
present. Moreover it was hardly advisable to stay in the shop lest some