“It is not only possible,” I said, “but it actually happened.” Her tapering forefinger touched my knee. “Then forgive me,” she said, “but, if I may venture to say so, hasn’t Time been exceedingly kind to you?” I stared at her. “I don’t quite follow,” I said. “No, of course not,” she said, “your modesty would forbid it. But I can scarcely conceive that, if such had not been the case, I should have failed to remember you.” “Of course I have matured,” I said. She nodded imperceptibly. “That is what I meant,” she said. “I think you must have.” “But it is rather about the future,” I said, “than the past that I have been obliged to call upon you this afternoon.” Her eyes became dreamy, although they were still fixed upon me. “Ah, the future,” she said, “the unknown future.” “And you will be sorry to hear,” I said, “that owing to a misunderstanding, Mr. Chrysostom has requested me to leave.” “Do you mean my husband?” she asked. “Why, of course,” I replied. “Dear Chrysostom,” she said. “This is some of his hair.” She showed me a small locket containing the article mentioned. “I am compelled to remind you,” I said, “that you were not always so affectionate.” “No, that’s true,” she said, “that’s very true. But happily I also have matured.” I stared at her again, a trifle uneasily. “Then perhaps you have forgotten,” I said, “your friend Septimus?” “Completely,” she said. “Was there one?” Had the floor been less slippery, I should have risen to my feet. “Mr. Septimus Lorton,” I said, “your husband’s brother.” “You mean the one,” she said, “that’s just passed on?” “Passed on?” I replied. “Where to?” She waved her hands towards several of the shrines. “Ah, if we but knew,” she said, “if we but knew, Mr. Carp.” “But do you mean to tell me,” I cried, “that he’s defunct?” “Run over,” she said, “last week.” For a moment, I must confess, I was a little taken aback. “But that doesn’t alter the fact,” I said, “that he was your lover.” “Very likely not,” she said. “I don’t remember. But I daresay you’re right. There have been so many.” “But do you mean to say,” I asked, “that there has been more than one?” “Oh far, far more than one,” she said. I began to rise again, and she put her finger on the mat. “Let me hold it,” she said, “while you get up.” This she did, and after a certain amount of difficulty, I once more towered above her. “But your husband?” I said. “Does your husband know?” “Everything,” she said. “In fact, all.” I took a deep breath, followed by another. “But what did he say?” I asked at last. She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m afraid I oughtn’t to tell you,” she said. “You see, since then I’ve embraced religion.” “Religion?” I said. “What religion?” “Every religion,” she said. “I’ve embraced them all.” “But how could you do that?” I asked. “Oh, there was no difficulty,” she said. “It has always been natural to me to embrace.” I glanced round the room.