Mrs. Halloran closed her eyes for a minute. Then she opened them rather suddenly, shot a quick look at David, and said with an eager note in her voice: “They do be saying that Miss Chantrey can make anny one sleep. There was a friend of mine was after telling me about it. It was her daughter that had the sleep gone from her, and after Miss Chantrey came to see her, it was the fine nights she was having, and it’s the strong woman she is now, entirely.” David got up rather abruptly. “Come, now, Mrs. Halloran,” he said, “you know as well as I do that that’s all nonsense. But I daresay a visit from Miss Chantrey would cheer you up quite a lot. Would you like to see her? Shall I ask her to come in one day?” “She’d be kindly welcome,” said Judy Halloran. David went home with the old conflict raging again. Skeffington had been urging him to see a specialist. He had always refused. But now, quite suddenly, he wired for an appointment. He came down from town on a dark, rainy afternoon, feeling that he had built up a barrier between himself and superstition. An hour later he was at the Mottisfonts’ door, asking Markham if Mary was at home. Mary had gone out to tea, said Markham, and then volunteered, “Miss Elizabeth is in, sir.” David told himself that he had not intended to ask for Elizabeth. Why should he ask for Elizabeth? He could, however, hardly explain to Markham that it was not Elizabeth he wished to see, so he came in, and was somehow very glad to come. Elizabeth had been reading aloud to herself. As he stood at the door he could hear the rise and fall of her voice. It was an old trick of hers. Ten years ago he had often stood on the threshold and listened, until rebuked by Elizabeth for eavesdropping. He came in, and she said just in the old voice: “You were listening, David.” But it was the David of to-day who responded wearily, “I beg your pardon, Elizabeth. Did you mind?” “No, of course not. Sit down, David. What have you been doing with yourself?” Instead of sitting down he walked to the window and looked out. The sky was one even grey, and, though the rain had ceased, heavy drops were falling from the roof and denting the earth in Elizabeth’s window boxes, which were full of daffodils in bud. After a moment he turned and said impatiently, “How dark this room is!” Elizabeth divined in him a reaction, a fear of what she had done, and might do. She knew very well why he had stayed away. Without replying she put out her hand and touched a switch on the wall. A tall lamp with a yellow shade sprang into view, and the whole room became filled with a soft, warm light.