“He has no idea, Fräulein,” replied Chassaigne. “But let us leave this painful subject. Will you not keep us company for a few minutes? We are strangers in a strange land.” With a gallant courtesy, which, however, omitted to wait for her assent, he took her right hand and led her to a chair. His quick eyes noted the three moles upon her wrist. She seated herself almost automatically. He registered, in support of his theory, her easy susceptibility to a quietly insistent suggestion. “Will you not tell us what is most worth seeing in Mainz?” he asked, smilingly. She looked up at him. “Alas, mein Herr, I cannot!” she said. “I have never been in the city.” “Indeed?” He expressed mild but courteous surprise. “Perhaps you have only recently come to live here yourself?” “Yes--er--no!” She smiled at her own confusion. “I mean we have been here some time--but we travelled so much before we came here--that I--I have really lost count----” Chassaigne made a reassuring little gesture which relegated the matter to a limbo of indifference. “You travelled with Doctor Breidenbach, I presume?” he asked, casually. “Yes. We went to a great many places. He was in the army then.” “When you first met him?” “Yes.” Her first tone of confident assertion changed almost as she uttered it to one of puzzled doubt. “Yes--I--I think so--I really forget.” She smiled in self-apology. “I have a very bad memory, you see, mein Herr,” she said, as if in explanation. “Doctor Breidenbach is treating me for it.” “Ah?--Doubtless he is doing you a great deal of good?” Chassaigne seated himself upon the edge of the table and smiled down upon her in paternal benevolence. “Oh, yes,” she began, impulsively. “You see, we are going to be married. But Doctor Breidenbach thinks it would not be right to be married until my memory is perfectly restored. So”--she hesitated, then smiled up with an innocent naïveté--“so you see I am doing all I can to concentrate and--and get it right.” “_Mon Dieu!_” groaned Vincent in a low tone of anguish, turning away and staring out of the window. Chassaigne frowned admonition at him in a quick glance unperceived by the young woman. Unobtrusively, he put one hand behind him, picked up the revolving-mirror from the table, held it behind his back. He nodded assent to her little self-revelation. “Of course. No doubt you are making very rapid progress. Doctor Breidenbach is a very clever man, is he not?” “Oh, yes--very clever. And so kind!” Chassaigne nodded again, his smile holding her confidence. As if absent-mindedly, he brought the little mirror in front of him, played with it. He noticed that her eyes fixed themselves instinctively upon it. “Pretty toy!” he remarked, casually. “It belongs to Doctor Breidenbach I suppose?” She stared at it in a strange fascination, shuddered suddenly. “Yes,” she said, with a little gesture before her eyes as though trying to throw off a spell, “yes--I--I think so----”