"Mr. Rodney Elmore?"
Rodney looked him up and down. It was not a very good light just there, but it was clear enough for him to recognise the man who had greeted him. For the first time in his life a feeling that was something very like dizziness went all over him, so that he all but reeled; but that self-control which so seldom quitted him except for the briefest instant was back before it had actually gone. He did not reel, but stood quite still, and, with a smile upon his face, looked the man fairly and squarely in the eyes.
"That is my name--I am Rodney Elmore; but you, sir--pray, who are you?"
"My name is Edward Giles. But I don't think that that can mean much to you, Mr. Elmore."
"I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Giles, but, as you say, your name does convey absolutely nothing to me. What is it that I can have the pleasure of doing for you at this latish hour?"
The man was silent for a moment. Then a curious smile flitted across his face as he came a half-step nearer.
"Think, Mr. Elmore. I shouldn't be surprised if you had rather a good memory. Don't you remember me?"
"Not the least in the world, Mr. Giles."
"It isn't so very long ago since you saw me."
"Indeed! I presume it was on rather a special occasion, Mr. Giles, since you appear to be rather anxious to recall it to my recollection."