I began to see myself back in Elm Park Gardens.

There, at least, if also there alone, I should get some credit for what I had done.
It was no use looking for Bob upon the terrace now; yet I did look there, among other obvious places, before I could bring myself to knock at his door.

There was a light in his room, so I knew that he was there, and he cried out admittance in so sharp a tone that I fancied he also knew who knocked.

I found him packing in his shirt-sleeves.

He received me with a stare in exact keeping with his tone.