“You are asleep. But you are going into a very much deeper sleep--a sleep so profound that it takes you far out of this time and place. Nevertheless you will remain in touch with me and you will hear my voice. But everything else is going from you. You are now released from the limitations of this body. You are on a plane from which you can enter into any time and place that I shall command.” He dropped her hand and, with his finger-tips, closed the lids over her eyes. Her body still remained upright in its trancelike rigidity. “What do you see?” he asked. “Nothing,” came the dreamy answer. “Where are you?” “I do not know--I--I am nowhere, I think,” she said with hesitation. “I--I--oh, do not keep me like this!” There was a new note of anxiety in her voice. “Wait a moment,” said the doctor. He turned to the mantelpiece, took down the clock, placed it on her lap, and clasped her hands about it. “Now,” he said in his quiet, tense tones, “you are in touch with that clock. I want you to go into the time and place when that clock had another owner--before your husband had it. Focus yourself upon it. Go into the room where it stands.” The young woman’s eyelids twitched flickeringly but otherwise her rigid attitude was unmodified. “Yes,” she said, in a slow and doubtful tone, “yes----” “What do you see?” asked the doctor. His lips compressed themselves firmly after the words, the muscles of his lean jaw stood out, in the intense effort of his will to keep emotion under control, to avoid an unconscious suggestion of ideas. “I see a _salon_,” said the young woman dreamily, “a _salon_ with French windows opening on to a lawn. There is a grand piano in it--and a young woman seated at the piano. She is dark--young--oh, she is very beautiful! She keeps on looking at the clock--the clock is on the mantelpiece between two bronze statuettes. She is expecting somebody----” “Yes?” said the doctor, crouching over her, his fists clenched in a spasm of supremely willed self-control, his breath coming in the quick gasps enforced by that tumultuous beating of the heart he could not command. “Yes?--Go on!” “She hears a footstep--she jumps up from the piano. A man comes into the room--a civilian. She throws her arms about him and kisses him. She leads him across to the mantelpiece and takes up the clock. She puts it into his hands--she is showing him something on the back of it, something written! They kiss again. They are in love these two--how she loves him! I can feel that--I can feel her love vibrating in me!” She paused dreamily. “I know what real love is--and she loves him like that----” “The man?” asked the doctor, his eyes wild. “The man?--describe him!” “His back is turned to me--I cannot see his face. Ah, he turns round. The man is--_you!_”