ent reminded me
of my mother's drawing-room of long ago.

Gradually it became more and more pungent. It seemed as though some
pastille were burning somewhere, for soon it became almost sickening,
an odour utterly overbearing.

At the same time I felt a curious sensation creeping over me. Why I
could not tell.

I was both agitated and annoyed. I had only half finished my drink,
and it was certainly not alcohol that was affecting me. Rather it
seemed to be that curious old-world perfume which each moment grew
more pungent.

I struggled against it. What would my newly-found friend think if he
returned to find me overcome?

I gained my feet with difficulty and managed to walk across the
carpet, holding my breath.

Certainly my night's adventure was, to say the least, a curious one.

Yet in our post-war days in London the man who ventures about town
after dark can easily meet with as strange occurrences and narrow
escapes as ever were described by the pioneers of Central Africa. The
explorer Stanley himself declared that the African jungle was safer
than the crossing of the Strand.

I suppose I must have remained in the chair into which I again sank
for a further ten minutes. My head swam. My mental balance seemed to
have become strangely upset by that highly pungent odour of lavender
and verbena. I could even taste it upon my tongue, and somehow it
seemed to paralyse all my senses save two, those of sight and reason.

I had difficulty in moving my mouth, my fingers, and my shoulders, but
my sense of smell seemed to have become extremely acute. Yet my
muscles seemed rigid, although my brain remained perfectly clear and
unimpaired.

It was that scent of verbena--now terrible and detestable--a million
times more potent than any bath soap--which filled my nostrils so that
it seemed to choke me. I longed for fresh air.

By dint of persistent effort I rose, dragged myself across the room,
drew aside the heavy silken curtain, and opening the window leaned out
into the cold air, gasping for breath.

Where was Mr. De Gex?

For about five minutes I remained there, yet even the night air gave
me little relief. My throat had become contracted until I seemed to be
choking.

By the exercise of greater effort I staggered back, aghast at the
sudden and unaccountable attack, and pressed the electric bell beside
the fireplace to summon my host or the estimable Horton. Then I sank
back into the arm-chair, my limbs paralyse