upon the instant, coming towards me holding out her hands as a child might do.
"I'm clean now. Aren't I clean?"
Her close propinquity filled with me wholly unreasonable agitation. I drew back. The removal of the cloak had disclosed a dark blue silk dress which fitted her, to my thinking, with the most marvellous perfection. There was a touch of white about her neck and wrists. Her beauty struck me more even than at first—it awed me. Yet at the back of my mind was born a dim fancy that somewhere in the flesh I had seen this enchanting vision before. I was at a loss as to the words with which I ought to address her, speaking at last, blunderingly enough.
"Have you any reason why you should wish to conceal your name?" She shook her head. "Then tell me what it is."
"But I don't know. Have I a name?"
"I presume that, with the rest of the world, you have. Pray do not suppose, however, that I wish to force myself into your confidence. I would only suggest that I think it might be better, for both our sakes, if you could give me some idea of where you came from before you entered my room."
"Did I enter your room? Oh yes, I remember; but—I don't remember anything more." She put her hand up to her head with the gesture
