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"The twilight atmosphere was tense with romance."
HE WAS a mild-mannered, self-conscious young man. He talked in a steady, low-pitched voice, as one who is inordinately anxious to be understood. As he talked, his body moved and twitched nervously. Quite unconsciously he shifted his weight frequently from one foot to the other; and with more frequency a mellow pink glow suffused his face and neck. He was dressed shabbily and wore glasses.
"You see," he said, "I am quite perplexed. I am not sure whether I am at this moment in the world of reality, or whether I am talking to you in a dream. There is a half-chance that I am dreaming, and if I am, it will be impossible for you to carry my story further, so I can afford to be more expository.
"I live in a white stone mansion just this side of Morristown: it is on the highway, and lies a quarter of a mile east of Morristown, on the north side of the road. There is a yellow, corrugated brick wall that runs for about three hundred yards facing the road. The wall is about seven feet high and effectually isolates the estate from the road. On the top of the wall runs a short cast-iron grille about a foot high with nude, winged maidens pinioned on black fleurs-de-lis every six feet or so. At first I thought their exposed, rounded breasts vulgar taste, but they are small figures and quite eight feet above the ground, so not easily observed from the road.
"I have been away from home a long time. Mother and Kate are prob-
