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couch, spoke abruptly as if there had been no pause.

"You want to know whether I have ever done for anybody what I did for Margaret Capel?"

"Yes, that is what I asked you."

"Will you believe me when I tell you?"

"Perhaps. Why did you first encourage me to write Margaret Capel's life and then try and prevent my doing it?"

"You won't believe me when I tell you."

"Probably not."

"I wanted to know whether she had forgiven me, whether she was still glad. When you told me you saw and spoke to her …"

"It was almost before that, if I remember rightly."

"It may have been. Do you remember I said you were a reincarnation? The first time I came in and saw you sitting there, at her writing-table, in her writing-chair, I thought of you as a reincarnation."

The light in his eyes was rather fitful, strange.

"I was right, wasn't I, Margaret?" He put a hand on my knee. I remembered how she had flung it off under similar circumstances. I let it lie there. Why not?

"My name is Jane." It came back to me that I had said this to him once before.

"You don't care for me at all?"