III
Leaving his house, Chilcote walked forward quickly and
aimlessly. With the sting of the outer air the recollection
of last night's adventure came back upon him. Since the hour
of his waking it had hung about with vague persistence, but
now in the clear light of day it seemed to stand out with a
fuller peculiarity.
The thing was preposterous, nevertheless it was genuine. He
was wearing the overcoat he had worn, the night before, and,
acting on impulse, he thrust his hand into the pocket and drew
out the stranger's card.
"Mr. John Loder!" He read the name over as he walked along,
and it mechanically repeated itself in his brain--falling into
measure with his steps. Who was John Loder? What was he?
The questions tantalized him till his pace unconsciously
increased. The thought that two men so absurdly alike could
inhabit the same, city and remain unknown to each other faced
him as a problem: it tangled with his personal worries and
aggravated them. There seemed to be almost a danger in such
an extraordinary likeness.
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