He entered his name as Mr.Sabin--the old exile's hatred of using his title in a foreign country had become a confirmed habit with him--and mingled freely with the crowds who thronged into the restaurant at night.

There were many faces which he remembered, there were a few who remembered him.

He neither courted nor shunned observation.

He sat at dinner-time at a retired table, and found himself watching the people with a stir of pleasure.

Afterwards he went round to a famous club, of which he had once been made a life member, but towards midnight he was wearied of the dull decorum of his surroundings, and returning to the hotel, sought the restaurant once more.