With quick hearing she caught the word. "Bellevue," she said. She had evidently learned it while there. "Bellevue." She repeated it, frowning. She made a gesture, meaningless, and sank back, huddled against Nanette. Alan switched off the dome light. "We'd better get started--some one might see us." He drove on. "Keep on trying, Nanette." We decided to take her to Alan and Nanette's apartment. The Turber staff at the hospital would report that Turber and his assistant and the girl suffering from amnesia had vanished. What else could they say? Charlie probably would not talk; and Alan doubted if himself or Charlie had been recognized. Our connection with the mysterious midnight disturbance at Turber's might never be established. * * * * * We were in the quiet, mid-town streets of New York when Nanette called us again. "She understands the word 'tower'! She just said it. Lea, what do you mean? Try! Say something else to Nanette!" Lea was murmuring: "Tower! Tower!" She seemed trying to look out of the side window. I leaned back and drew up the shade. "That all right, Alan?" "Yes. What does she want to do?" She was peering through the window. We went on a few blocks in silence. Alan said nothing. But he had told me he intended crossing Forty-Second Street to the East Side. He did not. He went north to Fifty-Ninth. Then turned east. Soon we were passing along the southern edge of Central Park. Lea had been peering intently. She recognized the park. She murmured: "Tower! Tower!" Insistently. She even turned and plucked at Alan's shoulder. "Tower! Tower!" Understanding swept me. "Alan, she--" "Yes. Wait, Ed! Don't say anything--just watch her." He silenced Nanette's questions. We turned up Fifth Avenue. The dark, tree-dotted park was on our left. Nanette sat quiet, trying to fathom the sudden tenseness which had come to us. Lea stared through her window at the park. Intent. Motionless. We came into sight of the Metropolitan Museum a few blocks ahead. Alan slowed the car. "Lea--" She turned at the sound of her name. She smiled; gestured at the park; reached toward the door of the car. I exclaimed: "She recognizes it, Alan! She wants to get out. What are you doing?" He had turned into the cross-street. "Stop here. See what she wants to do." We opened the car door. I stood at the curb. This cross-street was dim and deserted. "Lea." She turned again as Alan spoke. She smiled and gestured again toward the park. And pulled at Nanette. "What is it, Lea, dear?" "She wants you to get out, Nanette." "Shall I, Alan?" "Yes. Help her, Ed." I guided Nanette. Lea plucked at Alan. He put the lights of the car out and locked it. His fingers were trembling. "You walk with Lea, Nanette. Let her guide you. We'll follow. See what she wants to do." Four of us; unnoticed by the great, sleeping city, all unaware of us. And what would it have cared?