bottom, I felt now no other course was possibly open to me. For the
sake of my own credit, for the sake of my own good fame, I must find
out and punish my father's murderer.






CHAPTER VI.

RELIVING MY LIFE





Often, as you walk down a street, a man or woman passes you by. You
look up at them and say to yourself, "I seem to know that face"; but
you can put no name to it, attach to it no definite idea, no
associations of any sort. That was just how Woodbury struck me when
I first came back to it. The houses, the streets, the people, were
in a way familiar; yet I could no more have found my way alone from
the station to The Grange than I could find my way alone from here
to Kamschatka.

So I drove up first in search of lodgings. At the station even
several people had bowed or shaken hands with me respectfully as I
descended from the train. They came up as if they thought I must
recognise them at once: there was recognition in their eyes; but