"And did he die that night?" I asked, breathless with excitement.

"No," said Annerly, "he did not. He rose next morning feeling
about as before except that the sense of drowsiness had apparently
passed, and that the sound of his breathing was no longer audible."

Annerly again fell into silence. Anxious as I was to hear the rest
of his astounding narrative, I did not like to press him with
questions. The fact that our relations had hitherto been only of a
formal character, and that this was the first occasion on which he
had invited me to visit him at his rooms, prevented me from
assuming too great an intimacy.

"Well," he continued, "Q went to his office each day after that
with absolute regularity. As far as I can gather there was nothing
either in his surroundings or his conduct to indicate that any
peculiar fate was impending over him. He saw Miss M regularly, and
the time fixed for their marriage drew nearer each day."

"Each day?" I repeated in astonishment.

"Yes," said Annerly, "every day. For some time before his marriage
I saw but little of him. But two weeks before that event was due
to happen, I passed Q one day in the street. He seemed for a
moment about to stop, then he raised his hat, smiled and passed on."

"One moment," I said, "if you will allow me a question that seems of
importance--did he pass on and then smile and raise his hat, or did
he smile into his hat, raise it, and then pass on afterwards?"