He kept close behind him
past the door of the Strand Theatre, when the throng became slacker, and
the man turned quickly about and returned the way he had come. Then
Lefevre had a glimpse of his face,--the merest passing glimpse, but it
made him pause and ask himself where he had seen it before. A dark,
foreign-looking man, with a haggard appeal in his eye: he tried to find
the place of such a figure in his memory, but for the time he tried in
vain.
Before the doctor recovered himself the man was well past, and
disappearing in the throng. He hurried after, determined to overtake
him, and to make a full and satisfying perusal of his face and figure.
He found that difficult, however, because of the man's singular style of
progression. To maintain an even pace for himself, moreover, Lefevre had
to walk very much in the roadway, the dangers of which, from passing
cabs and omnibuses, forbade his fixing his attention on the man alone.
Yet he was more and more piqued to look him in the face; for the longer
he followed him the more he was struck with the oddity of his conduct.
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