III THE CITY OF RESURRECTIONS “Herbert! Good God! Is it possible?” “Yes, my name’s Herbert. I think I know your face, too, but I don’t remember your name. My memory is very queer.” “Don’t you recollect Villiers of Wadham?” “So it is, so it is. I beg your pardon, Villiers, I didn’t think I was begging of an old college friend. Good-night.” “My dear fellow, this haste is unnecessary. My rooms are close by, but we won’t go there just yet. Suppose we walk up Shaftesbury Avenue a little way? But how in heaven’s name have you come to this