“But you were not blind; you could see everything else?” “Yes, when I looked for them I could. I wish I could explain to you how it was. The nearest I can get to it is, that his figure, while I saw it, stood out more distinctly than anything else. All the rest seemed in the background, indistinct by comparison. Ah, I know—like—have you ever noticed on a bright sunny day, looking in a shop window, how suddenly the things reflected are much clearer and more visible than the things actually in the window? They seem to recede, and the reflection is strong and clear. Well, it was something like that. As if one had two sights and one for the moment overbore the other. I’m explaining badly, but it’s difficult. At any rate he did not evaporate or fade as they say these visions invariably do. It was the sight failed me.” “That is enormously interesting,” said North slowly. “You see,” said Ruth eagerly, “ever since I came here this—this being in touch with Dick Carey has been growing. It is becoming a wonderful experience; it seems to me of possibly enormous value, but I don’t want to take it one step beyond where it can reasonably and legitimately be taken. I want the truth about it. I want your brains, your intelligence, to help me. I want you honestly and truly to tell me just what you think of these happenings. And I want to know whether you yourself have had any sense of his presence here, even ever so faint.” North recovered his pipe, re-lit it, and began to smoke again before he answered. Indeed, he smoked in silence for quite a long time. “I cannot deny the fact,” he said at length, “that I have what perhaps should be described as a prejudice against any supposed communication with the dead. It has always been surrounded, to my mind, with so much that is undesirable, nor do I believe in any revelation save that of science, and on these lines science has no revelation. But there are two things here that do force themselves on my consideration. One is that you never knew Dick in the flesh, the other that since you came here, not before, I have myself felt, not a presence of any sort, but the sense of well-being and content which always belonged to my companionship with him. And that I never feel anywhere but at Thorpe, or at Thorpe except when you are with me. The latter can be explained in various ways. The former is rather different. Have you ever seen a photograph of Dick, or has anyone described him to you?” “No. I have never seen a photograph, and no one has ever described his appearance to me.” Then she smiled at him suddenly and delightfully. “I am not a curious woman, but I am human,” she said. “Before we go any further, for pity’s sake describe Dick Carey to me, and tell me if he was in the habit of leading Larry by a pocket-handkerchief!”