In this vision I saw myself enter Captain Herrick's studio just as I really did--in my white satin dress. Christopher was with me in his uniform. Then I saw myself lying on a divan and--Chris was bending over me, kissing me passionately. He kissed me many times, it seemed as if he would never stop kissing me--in the vision. All this was as clear as a motion picture. The extraordinary part of it is, that I neither resisted him nor responded in any way, I just seemed to be lying there--with my eyes closed--as if I were asleep. I am very much distressed about this. I _know_ that I did not really lie down on Captain Herrick's divan--I would not have done such a thing for the world. I _know_ Captain Herrick did not really kiss me in that passionate way, as I saw him kiss me in the bowl of gold fish, but I _feel_ that he did. I am afraid that he did. I can't get over the feeling that he did. This sounds like madness, doesn't it? A woman cannot be ardently kissed by a man without knowing it, can she? Perhaps I am mad--perhaps this is the way mad people feel. Help me, doctor, if you can, and above all _please_ see Captain Herrick--he is an old friend of yours--and find out exactly what I did at his studio. I must know the truth. And I can't ask Chris, can I? Yours in anguish of soul, PENELOPE WELLS. P. S.--Please telephone me as soon as you get this and make an appointment to see me. CHAPTER IV FIVE PURPLE MARKS During his thirty years of medical experience among neurasthenic and hysterical women, Dr. William Owen had never encountered a more puzzling case than the one before him on this brisk winter morning when he set forth to answer the urgent appeal of Penelope Wells. Here was a case fated to be written about in many languages and discussed before learned societies. A Boston psychologist was even to devote a chapter of his great work "Mysteries of the Subconscious Mind" to the hallucinations of Penelope W----. Poor Penelope! When Dr. Owen entered her attractive sitting room with its prevailing tone of blue, he found his fair patient reclining on a _chaise longue_, her eyes heavy with anxiety. "It's good of you to come, doctor. I appreciate it," she gave him her hand gratefully. "I expected to go to your office, but--something else has happened and I am--discouraged." Her arm fell listlessly by her side. "So I telephoned you." "I am glad to come, you know I take a particular interest in you," he smiled cheerily and drew up a chair. "We must expect these set-backs, but you are improving. You show it in your face. And your letter showed it. I read your letter carefully--studied it and--" "You haven't seen Captain Herrick?" she asked eagerly. "Not yet. I have asked him to dine with me this evening." Penelope sighed wearily and twined her fingers together in nervous agitation. "It's all so distressing. I can't understand it. Why did I see myself in that bowl of gold fish, so distinctly? Tell me--why?"