For over the room as well a change came stealing. In the shadows beyond the fringe of lamplight, perspective altered. The room ran off in distances that yet just escaped the eye: I _felt_ the change, though it was so real that the breath caught in me each time I sought to focus it. Space spread and opened on all sides, above, below, while so naturally that it was never actually unaccountable. Wood seemed replaced by stone, as though the solidity of our material surroundings deepened. I was aware of granite columns, corridors of massive build, gigantic pylons towering to the sky. The atmosphere of an ancient temple grew about my heart, and long-forgotten things came with a crowding of half-familiar detail that insisted upon recognition. It was an early memory, I knew, yet not the earliest.... “Be ready.” I heard the low voice of Julius. “She is about to wake--within,” and he moved a little closer to her, while I took up my position by the table by the lamp. The paper lay before me. With fingers that trembled I lifted the pencil, waiting. The hands of the sleeping woman raised themselves feebly, then fell back upon the arms of the chair. It seemed she tried to make signs but could not quite complete them. The expression on the face betrayed great internal effort. “Where are you?” Julius asked in a steady but very gentle tone. The answer came at once, with slight intervals between the words: “In a building ... among mountains....” “Are you alone?” “No ... not alone,” spoken with a faint smile, the eyes still tightly closed. “Who, then, is with you?” “You ... and he,” after a momentary hesitation. “And who am I?” The face showed slight confusion; there was a gesture as though she felt about her in the air to find him. “I do not know ... quite,” came the halting answer. “But you--both--are mine ... and very near to me. Or else you own me. All three are so close I cannot see ourselves apart ... quite.” “She is confused between two memories,” Julius whispered to me. “The true regression of memory has not yet begun. The present still obscures her consciousness.” “It is coming,” she said instantly, aware of his lightest whisper. “All in due time,” he soothed her in a tender tone; “there is no hurry. Nor is there anything to fear----” “I am not afraid. I am ... happy. I feel safe.” She paused a moment, then added: “But I must go deeper ... further down. I am too near the surface still.” He made a few slow passes at some distance from her face, and I saw the eyelids flutter as though about to lift. She sighed deeply. She composed herself as into yet deeper sleep. “Ah! I see better now,” she murmured. “I am sinking ... sinking ...” He waited for several minutes and then resumed the questioning. “Now tell me who _you_ are,” he enjoined.