"I agree. The poor girl's condition is most pitiable. At times she seems absolutely normal, and talks of things about her in quite a reasonable manner. But she never seems able to concentrate her thoughts. They always wander swiftly from one subject to another. I have noticed, too, that her vision is affected. Sometimes she will declare that a vivid red is blue. When we look into shop windows together she will refer to a yellow dress as mauve, a pink as white. At times she cannot distinguish colours. Yet now and then her vision becomes quite normal." "I have had some difficulty, Mrs. Tennison, in that way myself," I said. "When I first left St. Malo, after recovering consciousness of the present, I one day saw a grass field and it appeared to be bright blue. Again, an omnibus in London which I knew to be blue was a peculiar dull red. So my symptoms were the same as your daughter's." "It seems proved that both of you are fellow-victims of some desperate plot, Mr. Garfield," said the widow. "But what could have been its motive?" "That I am striving with all my might to establish," I answered. "If I can only obtain from your daughter the true facts concerning her adventures on that fatal night last November, then it will materially assist me towards fixing the guilt upon the person I suspect. In this I beg your aid, Mrs. Tennison," I said. "I have only just returned from several weeks abroad, during which I have gained considerable knowledge which in the end will, I hope, lead me to the solution of the problem." I then told her of my journey to Spain and afterwards to Nîmes. But I mentioned nothing concerning either Oswald De Gex or Despujol. At that moment Gabrielle, unaware of my presence, entered. She was dressed in a simple grey frock with short sleeves and cut discreetly low, and looked very sweet. On seeing me she drew back, but next second she put out her slim white hand in greeting, and with a delightful smile, exclaimed: "Why--why, Mr. Garfield! I--I remember you! You called upon me some weeks ago--did you not?" "Yes, Miss Tennison, I did," I replied as I sprang from my chair and bent over her hand. "So you recollect me--eh?" "I do. They said that you would call upon me," she replied, her beautiful face suddenly clouding. "Who told you that?" I asked. "Doctor Moroni. He warned me that you were my enemy." I drew a long breath, for I discerned the depth of the plot. "Not your enemy, Miss Tennison," I assured her. "But your friend--your friend who is trying his best to solve the problem of your--your illness." "Yes, Gabrielle, dear, Mr. Garfield is certainly your friend. I know that," declared her mother kindly. "Doctor Moroni must have been mistaken. Why should he have warned you against meeting Mr. Garfield?" I was silent for a moment, then I said: "Of course, Mrs. Tennison, you have no previous knowledge of me. You are taking me entirely at my own estimation."