The Devil Doctor

Eltham began to pace up and down the rug his pipe bubbling furiously; and something in the way he carried his head reminded me momentarily of Nayland Smith. Certainly between this pink-faced clergyman with his deceptively mild appearance and the gaunt bronzed and steely-eyed Burmese commissioner there was externally little in common; but it was some little nervous trick in his carriage that conjured up through the smoke-haze one distant summer evening when Smith had paced that very room as Eltham paced it now when before my startled eyes he had rung up the curtain upon the savage drama in which though I little suspected it then Fate had cast me for a leading rôle.