A soft, damp breeze was blowing in his face; from amongst the dripping trees of the Park the birds were beginning to make their morning music.

Already the blackness of night was passing away, the clouds were lightening, the stars were growing fainter.

Wrayson leaned a little forward.

His eyes were fixed upon the exact spot where she had crossed the road and disappeared.

All the horror of the coming day and the days to come loomed out from the background of his thoughts..