Now he remembered, in humiliation unspeakable, in bitterness past all
belief.

Time sped, and he sat there, motionless; and gradually the bitterness
became less perceptible as he drifted, intent on drifting, back through
the exotic sorcery of dead years--back into the sun again, where honour
was bright and life was young--where all the world awaited happy
conquest--where there was no curfew in the red evening glow; no end to
day, because the golden light had turned to silver; but where the
earliest hint of dawn was a challenge, and where every yellow star
whispered "Awake!"

And out of the magic _she_ had come into his world again!

Sooner or later he would meet her now. That was sure. When? Where? And
of what significance was it, after all?

Whom did it concern? Him? Her? And what had he to say to her, after all?
Or she to him?

Not one word.

* * * * *

About midnight he roused himself and picked up his hat and coat.

"Do you wish a cab, please?" whispered the club servant who held his
coat; "it is snowing very hard, sir."