he had haunted her dreams so that the very thought of sleep had been
abhorrent to her. But now--like the grim ghost of that strange life that
she had so resolutely thrust behind her--the whole revolting
personality of the man rushed vividly back upon her.

She sat as one petrified. Surely--surely--she had seen him in the flesh!
It could not have been a dream. She was certain that she had not slept.
And yet--how had that horrible old Kashmiri beggar come all these
hundreds of miles from his native haunts? It was not likely. It was
barely possible. And yet she had always been convinced that in some way
he had known her husband beforehand. Had he come then of set intention
to seek her out, perhaps to attempt to extract money from her?

She could not answer the question, and her whole being shrank from the
thought of going out into the darkness to investigate. She could not
bring herself to it. Actually she dared not.

Minutes passed. She sat still gazing and gazing at the blank darkness of
the window. Nothing moved there. The wild beating of her heart died
gradually down. Surely it had been a mistake after all! Surely she had
fallen into a doze in the midst of her reverie and dreamed this hateful
apparition with the gleaming eyes and famished face!

She exerted her self-command and turned at last to look at Tommy. He was
sleeping peacefully with his head on his arm. He would sleep all night
if undisturbed. She laid aside her book and softly rose.

Her first intention was to go to the door and see if Peter were in the
passage. But the very fact of moving seemed to give her courage. The
man's rest would be short enough; it seemed unkind to disturb him.