III.
When Didcott woke the next morning he was at first unable to convince himself that his previous night's experience was not merely a bad dream. Then he was lost in astonishment that he could have behaved so idiotically.
He started for Fleet Street at the usual time, but to his disgust found himself blenching before every policeman. Always impulsive, he darted into a barber's shop, and emerged with a beardless face. After this, he was able to confront the world with eyes that did not shift uneasily.
During the course of the day, he wrote a letter to Miss Winder, telling her he had been unfortunate enough to leave her priceless manuscript in a hansom cab, but that he had no doubt of eventually recovering it.
The immediate effect of his note was to bring Miss Winder pale with consternation to his office.
"'OH, MR. DIDCOTT,' SAID MISS WINDER, 'HAVE YOU FOUND MY NOVEL YET?'"
"Oh, Mr. Didcott," she cried, as she entered breathlessly, "have you found it yet?"
"Not yet, Miss Winder. There has been no time."
"How could you have been so—so careless?"