He struck the observer as always being on the outlook for someone who did not come.
Why attempt to account for the nameless fascination he exercised over the young Scotchman?
We speak lightly of mesmeric influence, but, after all, there is only one mesmerist for youth--a good woman or a good man.

Depend upon it, that is why so many "mesmerists" have mistaken their vocation.

Andrew took to prowling about the streets looking for this man, like a dog that has lost its master.
The day came when they met.
Andrew was returning from the Crystal Palace, which he had been viewing from the outside.

He had walked both ways.

Just as he rounded the upper end of Chancery Lane, a man walking rapidly struck against him, whirled him aside, and hurried on.
The day was done, but as yet the lamps only dimmed the streets.
Andrew had been dreaming, and the jerk woke him to the roar of London.
It was as if he had taken his fingers from his ears.
He staggered, dazed, against a 'bus-horse, but the next moment he was in pursuit of the stranger.