Lindsay laughed again. "I shouldn't have paid any attention to it, if you had. I knew that this was what you needed. You were sleeping then about twenty-five hours out of the twenty-four. So one night we brought you in a taxi to the boat and took the night trip to Boston. The boat was making its return trip that night, but I bribed them to let you stay on it all day until it was almost ready to sail. Late in the afternoon, we brought you in an automobile to Quinanog. You slept all the way. That was yesterday afternoon. It was dark when we got here. You didn't even open your eyes when I carried you into the house. In the meantime I had wired Mrs. Spash--and she fixed up your room, as much like the way it used to be when you were a child, as she could remember." "It's all too marvelous," Susannah murmured. New brilliancies were welling up into her turquoise eyes, the deep dark fringes of lash could not hold them; the stars kept dropping off their tips. Fresh spurts of color invaded her face. Nervously her long white hands pulled at her coppery braids. "There are so many questions I shall ask you," she went on, "when I'm strong enough. But some I must ask you now. How did you happen to come here? And when did the idea of writing Glorious Lutie's--my aunt's--biography occur to you? And how did you come to know Mrs. Spash? Where did you find the little Chinese toys? And my painted bedroom set? And the sideboard there? And the six-legged highboy? Oh dear, a hundred, thousand, million things. But first of all, how did you know that, now being Susannah Ayer, I was formerly Susannah Delano?" "There was the miniature of Miss Murray hanging on your wall. That made me sure--in--in some inexplicable way--that you were the little lost Cherry. And of course we went through your handbag to make sure. We found some letters addressed to Susannah Delano Ayer. But will you tell me how you _do_ happen to be Susannah Ayer, when you were formerly Susannah Delano, alias Cherry--or Cherie?" "I went from here to Providence to live with a large family of cousins. Their name was Ayer, and I was so often called Ayer that finally I took the name." Susannah paused, and then with a sudden impulse toward confidence, she went on. "I grew up with my cousins. I was the youngest of them all. The two oldest girls married, one a Californian, the other a Canadian. I haven't seen them for years. The three boys are scattered all over everywhere, by the war. My uncle died first; then my aunt. She left me the five hundred dollars with which I got my business training." The look of one who is absorbing passionately all that is being said to him was on Lindsay's face. But a little perplexity troubled it. "Glorious Lutie?" he repeated interrogatively.