London can
be infinitely more lonely under such conditions than any desert--I saw a
thick-set figure approaching along the other side of the street.

The swing of the shoulders, the aggressive turn of the head, were
vaguely familiar, and while I was searching my memory and endeavouring
to obtain a view of the man's face, he stared across in my direction.

It was Adderley.

He looked even more debauched than I remembered him, for whereas in
Singapore he had had a tanned skin, now he looked unhealthily pallid and
blotchy. He raised his hand, and:

"Knox!" he cried, and ran across to greet me.

His boisterous manner and a sort of coarse geniality which he possessed
had made him popular with a certain set in former days, but I, who
knew that this geniality was forced, and assumed to conceal a sort of
appalling animalism, had never been deceived by it. Most people found
Adderley out sooner or later, but I had detected the man's true nature
from the very beginning. His eyes alone were danger signals for any
amateur psychologist. However, I greeted him civilly enough:

"Bless my soul, you are looking as fit as a fiddle!" he cried. "Where
have you been, and what have you been doing since I saw you last?"

"Nothing much," I replied, "beyond trying to settle down in a reformed
world."

"Reformed world!" echoed Adderley. "More like a ruined world it has
seemed to me."

He laughed loudly. That he had already explored several bottles was
palpable.

We were silent for a while, mentally weighing one another up, as it
were. Then:

"Are you living in town?" asked Adderley.

"I am staying at the Carlton at the moment," I replied. "My chambers are
in the hands of the decorators. It's awkward. Interferes with my work."

"Work!" cried Adderley. "Work! It's a nasty word, Knox. Are you doing
anything now?"

"Nothing, until eight o'clock, when I have an appointment."

"Come along to my place," he suggested, "and have a cup of tea, or a
whisky and soda if you prefer it."

Probably I should have refused, but even as he spoke I was mentally
translated to the lounge of the Hotel de l'Europe, and prompted by a
very human curiosity I determined to accept his invitation. I wondered
if Fate had thrown an opportunity in my way of learning the end of the
peculiar story which had been related on that occasion.

I accompanied Adderley to his chambers, which were within a stone's
throw of the spot where I had met him. That this gift