“Ah, do you think it was right for him to keep you all to himself?” The girl did not answer, and they had both halted so abruptly that I almost ran into them. “I don’t quite make out where we are.” Kendricks seemed to be peering about. I plunged across the street lest he should ask me. I heard him add, “Oh yes; I know now,” and then they pressed forward. We were quite near our hotel, but I thought it best to walk round the square and let them arrive first. On the way I amused myself thinking how different the girl had shown herself to him from what she had ever shown herself to my wife or me. She had really, this plain-minded goddess, a vein of poetic feeling, some inner beauty of soul answering to the outer beauty of body. She had a romantic attachment to her father, and this shed a sort of light on both of them, though I knew that it was not always a revelation of character. XIII WHEN I reached the hotel I found Miss Gage at the door, and Kendricks coming out of the office toward her. “Oh, here he is!” she called to him at sight of me. “Where in the world have you been?” he demanded. “I had just found out from the clerk that you hadn’t come in yet, and I was going back for you with a searchlight.” “Oh, I wasn’t so badly lost as all that,” I returned. “I missed you in the crowd at the door, but I knew you’d get home somehow, and so I came on without you. But my aged steps are not so quick as yours.” The words, mechanically uttered, suggested something, and I thought that if they were in for weirdness I would give them as much weirdness as they could ask for. “When you get along toward fifty you’ll find that the foot you’ve still got out of the grave doesn’t work so lively as it used. Besides, I was interested in the night effect. It’s so gloriously dark; and I had a fine sense of isolation as I came along, as if I were altogether out of my epoch and my environment. I felt as if the earth was a sort of _Flying Dutchman_, and I was the only passenger. It was about the weirdest sensation I ever had. It reminded me, I don’t know how, exactly of the feeling I had when I was young, and I saw the sunset one evening through the woods after a sleet-storm.” They stared at each other as I went on, and I could see Kendricks’s fine eyes kindle with an imaginative appreciation of the literary quality of the coincidence. But when I added, “Did you ever read a poem about the end of the world by that City of Dreadful Night man?” Miss Gage impulsively caught me by the coat lapel and shook me. “Ah, it was you all the time! I knew there was somebody following us, and I might have _known_ who it was!”