In my drive to the station I was greatly perplexed over this incident, wondering who the man could be. Evidently he was a Russian, and had just arrived or was on the point of departing on a journey, for he wore a long travelling ulster and soft felt hat. From Vera's dispirited manner it appeared as if he were giving some directions which were hateful to her, and which she was vainly resisting. I somehow felt certain, too, that he had pronounced my name; and at mention of it she shrank as if in fear. It seemed very much as if this man, as well as her uncle, exercised some power over her, and during my long night journey I tried to account for the stranger's presence. After all, it might be nothing, I thought at last; and perhaps the green-eyed monster had arisen within me and distorted, as it often does, what would otherwise have seemed a very commonplace occurrence. On the third evening after leaving Genoa I arrived at Charing Cross, having travelled incessantly by the Mont Cenis route without breaking the journey at Paris. It was impossible for me to go to Russia without a passport, therefore I was compelled to return to London and obtain one. At first I was troubled by this, the time of my arrival being limited to three weeks; but afterwards, finding the journey from Italy to the Russian capital was much more circuitous than from London, I made the best of it, feeling certain I should be able to deliver the jewels within the time stipulated by the woman who had enchanted me. On my arrival I drove at once to my rooms and sought the rest of which I was so sorely in need, afterwards setting about packing a few additional necessaries for my journey. For three days, however, I was obliged to remain in London before I could obtain my passport, and though impatient to set out, I passed the time as best I could. The evening of the second day I met Nugent at the Club. He expressed the greatest surprise at meeting me, yet I did not inform him of the journey I had undertaken, but led him to believe that my life at Genoa had become unbearable after he had left, and that on the following day I contemplated returning to Paris for a few weeks. We dined together and afterwards went to the Alhambra, but only once did he refer to Vera. It was after the ballet, when we were taking cigarettes and coffee. "By the way," he said suddenly, a mischievous smile lighting up his genial face, "what progress did you make with _la belle_ Seroff? You have not spoken of her." I did not care to be questioned upon this matter, so appeared to treat it as a joke. "Ah?" I replied, "it was a mere flirtation. Why, really, Bob, old chap, I believe you regarded that little affair seriously," I said, laughing. He raised his eyebrows slightly, saying, "You guessed aright. I thought you were in love with her; but am glad to hear such is not the case." "Why?" I asked, in surprise, for had he not hinted more than once that she would make me a charming wife?