It was Alfred Rayner's only memory of the past, but it leapt out now, a clear-cut picture, as he stood gazing on the once familiar spot. "Bah! What have I, an English gentleman bred, to do with such a nightmare," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders, as he walked off with quickened steps. "I'll bury the whole thing fathoms deep." He did not slacken his pace till the feebly-lit road merged into the bright streets of the city. Seeing the doors of a hotel standing invitingly open, he paused. "I'm hopelessly late for the Melford's dinner now, I'd better fortify my inner man here," he said to himself, and hurried up the steps. "This mad meeting at the Shrine of Kali has robbed me of my usual appetite. I'll just toss down a glass of brandy to strengthen my nerves before I face that estimable couple." The stimulant seemed restoring. He passed out to the street again and hailed a tikka-gharry to drive him to Ballygunge Road without further delay. His host and hostess could not help greeting him with inquiring eyes on his arrival. "A most discourteous guest I must appear, Mrs. Melford. But pray don't pass sentence on me till you have heard my sad tale," he said lightly. "Well, to begin with, when I emerged from Truelove Brothers I found that I was hopelessly late for your tiffin, and also for joining the steam-launch party. I refreshed myself as best I could at a place near, and then set out to mow down some calls, seeing that the pleasure of an afternoon on the river was beyond my reach. Then I lost myself, as one may well do in this labyrinth of a place. At last I managed to pick up a gharry and here I am, full of contrition for my bad behaviour. Hope you forgive me, Mrs. Melford?" "Oh, but I'm sorry you missed our river picnic. It was so delightful and cool. What a strange day you seem to have had," the hostess added, with a musing air which Mr. Rayner did not relish. "Didn't Fyson offer you tiffin?" asked Mr. Melford. "He did not--most inhospitable, wasn't it?" said Mr. Rayner quickly, assuming an injured air. "Strange! I happen to know that the partners of Trueloves' always have an ample table--covers for anybody who may turn up. In fact they're reckoned most hospitable," said Mr. Melford, deciding that things had evidently not turned out as his guest had expected. Conversation began to flag, then Mr. Rayner remembered that he had letters to attend to. "No, thanks," he said, declining his host's invitation to the smoking room. "I've indulged in too many exciting cheroots to-day already"; and with a light laugh he withdrew to his own room. "Rayner's not in good form to-night," remarked his host. "Oh, Jack, I can't suffer him! He's all 'form,' it seems to me. He doesn't look a true man. I'm very sorry for his wife. Is he quite, quite English, do you think? Did you notice his fingers, and there is surely something oriental in those eyes of his, they're fine, but there's something--I only noticed it since he came in to-night."