“Ah, I forget,” said Mr. Niksab. “You are not freed from the awful gnawings of the creatures yourself; but it is not to _forget_ that you are here. It is, on the other hand, _to remember_,” replied the Governor. Marriet Motuble had entered the room unobserved by all, and now astonished them by saying: “You’re right, Governor; you’re right. It is memory we must cultivate while under your roof. It’s a good thing for John that he has sunk into his present state of semiconsciousness, or I am afraid I would be compelled to make him acknowledge his great sins by means of physical force, which is a shorter route to punishment than your ‘Memory Fluid.’ I think a good thumping would do John good; or a bullet through his head might be better.” These coarse remarks were not joined in by anyone, but she was in nowise abashed. They pitied her for her coarse, vulgar mind. They knew her time was not far distant, however. The scientists busied themselves quietly with their chemical instruments, now and then glancing up (out of courtesy) at some remark she made, to which, however, they made no response. Mr. Niksab sat in a corner of the same room, his head between his hands in deep thought, lost, it seemed, to everything around him. The fair-haired, aggressive señorita walked, or rather stalked back and forth in the room, her thumbs in a pocket on either side of her short coat. “I remember, too, that blear-eyed reprobate, the _subject_ yonder—that was the name by which the medical students called such people in years gone by. They called them that in the year of 1898–’99, did they not, friend Niksab?” Mr. Niksab started from his reverie, looked at the señorita with a strange look in his eyes, and said: “I believe so,” and at once lapsed into another silence. “You are correct,” said the Governor. “You have been, I believe, a Subject here also. I am not mistaken, am I? For our ‘Memory Fluid’ we can claim another victory, then.” Marriet Motuble stood in her favorite position, a smile of amusement on her face, listening to the Governor. She openly respected and secretly admired him. All the impulses of her loving heart, which were many, went out to the great man. Hers was a terrible love, and woe to the man who aroused her love and failed to reciprocate it. She did not take her eyes from his handsome face,—her eyes which spoke volumes of love, and shone with the light of a furious passion. In this frame of mind she approached him closely, and said: “Your Honor is mistaken. I have never been a ‘subject’ in your illustrious institution.” “But,” interrupted the Governor, “you remember.” “Yes, ’tis true; and more, perhaps, than many would care to hear,” she replied.