Sustained by the feeling that she existed somewhere near him, he continued his search day after day until in the abstracted intensity of his fancy London assumed the appearance of a wilderness of unending streets filled with pallid faces which flitted past his vision like ghosts.

But the face he was seeking was never among them.
He searched with the wariness of one whose own liberty depended upon his watchfulness.

A second glance, an indignant look, a turn of the head, a policeman's casual eye--any of these things would place him immediately on his guard and turn his footsteps in a different direction.

He chose his sleeping places with care at the last minute, and left them at early morning when only a yawning night porter or a sleepy maid servant was astir.

He never returned to the same place, nor did he go to the same restaurant twice.