remember her own name; they want to know why a child of five, just come from a foreign land, spoke the language of other children of five whom she found here. They refuse to believe that any mother could be so unnatural as to put her own daughter out of her life forever through a chance meeting with strangers and not stop to learn whether her own daughter was saved from water into which she had fallen. They want to know how a girl of six or seven became familiar with classical names given her pets, some of them based on the physical characteristics of the persons whose names were taken, peculiarities known to few scholars who had searched libraries of the world. For example, lambs were named for the personal characteristics of Diogenes.
I haven’t the least doubt that a large part of Opal's diary is hoax and a large part plagiarism. I have presented facts that show the foster-parentage claim impossible, but—
Those who wish to believe in Opal will point out that Opal, who has never returned to the scenes so beautifully described as those of her childhood, embarked for Europe with a confidential document signed by our secretary of state and Sir Edward Grey of England, who became acquainted with Opal in this country through Ellery Sedgwick; they will point out that someway Opal was countenanced by the mother of d’Orleans, who probably financed Opal's trip to India; they will point out that there is strong evidence that Opal was accepted for at least a time as a relative of His Royal Highness, the Maharana of Adaipur, ruling Indian prince.
