“This is a new man,” he said. “He’s always got a different thing to suggest, and it’s very distracting--hadn’t I better see him this time?” “I think Dolff is right,” said Mrs. Harwood. “No,” said Meredith, “I want distraction. Let’s have him here.” He did not omit to note the fact that Dolff retired further still into his corner as the policeman came in. The detective, who was in plain clothes, but not a lofty member of his profession, made a sweeping bow all round, and looked a little embarrassed as he found himself among a company of ladies. He looked round for Dolff, whom he knew, and then at the stranger in the centre of the group, whom he had never seen before, but who distinctly assumed the principal place. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “I don’t see the gentleman I’ve seen before. Oh!--yes--I beg your pardon.” He turned again to the corner, from which Dolff had emerged a little. “You needn’t mind me,” said Dolff, “there is the gentleman who is most interested, Mr. Meredith.” Meredith had his eyes fixed on Dolff. The young man was like a thunderstorm, dark, heavy, and lowering, his eyelids half covering his eyes, his shoulders shrugged up, his head down between them. A vague light was breaking upon the question. At this moment Dolff stooped down to recover something he had dropped. Meredith uttered a quick, low cry. “What is it? What is it? This is too much for you Charley,” said Gussy. His eyes were fixed on Dolff in the corner. They were widening and brightening, the iris dilating, the eyes almost projecting, or seeming to project, with the intensity of his gaze. “Ah!” he said, with a long-drawn breath. He had found it at last--the thing which he had remembered yet could not remember. Janet’s eyes, drawn to him with a sort of fascination, divined what it meant, and her heart sank. Gussy, who had no such prescience, thought only of excitement and fatigue to her patient. “Oh, what is it? you are overdone?” she said. “You must do nothing more to-day.” When he turned to her he had a smile on his lips. “I am not overdone,” he said, “on the contrary, I have made great progress. I have got new light. I have got back my memory, and now I remember everything. Pray, Dolff,” he said, quietly, “don’t go away. You must help us with your experience.” And he laughed--a laugh full of mockery, which somehow, to two at least of the persons present, seemed like a death-knell. Dolff, who had made a step or two towards the door, stopped with an obedience too ready and complete. He saw the change in Meredith’s face, and felt that the hour of vengeance which he had, he thought, eluded, was now about to come. He cast a dull glance at Janet, half of appeal, half of despair--and saw that she thought as he did, and was holding her breath in intense attention. She understood, but did not sympathize. She would not stand by him now, he felt instinctively, though she had stood by him before.