Zenith began to speak again, when she was interrupted by the opening of a door. I heard someone walk towards me, and then the doctor’s voice broke the silence. “How is he, Mona? Is there any change?” “No,” replied my beloved, “he hasn’t stirred nor shown a sign of consciousness. Cannot something more be done for him?” I was becoming a little hardened in my guilt by this time, and, although my strength seemed now to be returning to me, I decided to keep still yet longer and hear what words of wisdom the doctor would utter on my case. “I know of nothing that can be done,” he said. “He received no injury except the wound on his head, and that, apparently, is not serious. Time is the great healer in such cases. My chief fear is that when he recovers consciousness we will find his memory is defective, as it was after his plunge into your ocean, Zenith. He will doubtless forget how we ever got into this strange place, and I am almost sure he will not recognize Mona, for that was the direction in which he failed before.” “But you forget,” said Zenith, “that Mona herself will be here to sing for him.” “I fear not even that will recall his wandering wits this time. You know he is more badly hurt than before. I dislike to cause you pain, Mona, but I must be frank and tell you that our friend will probably never know you again.” One would naturally expect Mona to have burst into tears at this hopeless prospect, but instead of that she sang out, as joyously as ever: “Never mind me, Doctor. Only restore him to health and happiness, and it will be of little moment whether he remembers me or not. No one knows better than you do that I am always happy, that’s why I am singing all the time.” Such unselfishness as this was more than I could appreciate, and rather more, I thought, than was called for by the circumstances. How could she love me so, and still not care if I never were to know her again? Was she the same Mona, after all, who had so provokingly eluded my love during my former visit? These reflections caused me to decide to come to life, and claim her as mine before she resigned all her interest in me. So, opening my eyes and looking in her face, I said, as quietly as possible: “I do remember you, dear Mona, and shall never forget you. Doctor, you see your science has proved false again.” “And glad indeed I am that it has,” he rejoined, “since it is so greatly to our advantage.”