What perplexed him was his recent remorse and tenderness for Miriam. Now he was back in her atmosphere all that had vanished, and the old feeling of helpless antagonism returned. He surveyed the piled furniture, the economically managed carpet, the unpleasing pictures on the wall. Why had he felt remorse? Why had he entertained this illusion of a helpless woman crying aloud in the pitiless darkness for him? He peered into the unfathomable mysteries of the heart, and ducked back to a smaller issue. _Was_ he feeble? The eggs came up. Nothing in Annie's manner invited a resumption of the discussion. "Business brisk?" he ventured to ask. Annie reflected. "It is," she said, "and it isn't. It's like that." "Ah!" said Mr. Polly, and squared himself to his egg. "Was there an inquest on that chap?" "What chap?" "What was his name?--Polly!" "Of course." "You're sure it was him?" "What you mean?" Annie looked at him hard, and suddenly his soul was black with terror. "Who else could it have been--in the very cloes 'e wore?" "Of course," said Mr. Polly, and began his egg. He was so agitated that he only realised its condition when he was half way through it and Annie safely downstairs. "Lord!" he said, reaching out hastily for the pepper. "One of Miriam's! Management! I haven't tasted such an egg for five years.... Wonder where she gets them! Picks them out, I suppose!" He abandoned it for its fellow. Except for a slight mustiness the second egg was very palatable indeed. He was getting on to the bottom of it as Miriam came in. He looked up. "Nice afternoon," he said at her stare, and perceived she knew him at once by the gesture and the voice. She went white and shut the door behind her. She looked as though she was going to faint. Mr. Polly sprang up quickly and handed her a chair. "My God!" she whispered, and crumpled up rather than sat down. "It's _you_" she said. "No," said Mr. Polly very earnestly. "It isn't. It just looks like me. That's all." "I _knew_ that man wasn't you--all along. I tried to think it was. I tried to think perhaps the water had altered your wrists and feet and the colour of your hair." "Ah!" "I'd always feared you'd come back." Mr. Polly sat down by his egg. "I haven't come back," he said very earnestly. "Don't you think it." "'Ow we'll pay back the insurance now I _don't_ know." She was weeping. She produced a handkerchief and covered her face. "Look here, Miriam," said Mr. Polly. "I haven't come back and I'm not coming back. I'm--I'm a Visitant from Another World. You shut up about me and I'll shut up about myself. I came back because I thought you might be hard up or in trouble or some silly thing like that. Now I see you again--I'm satisfied. I'm satisfied completely. See? I'm going to absquatulate, see? Hey Presto right away." He turned to his tea for a moment, finished his cup noisily, stood up. "Don't you think you're going to see me again," he said, "for you ain't." He moved to the door.