"Exactly," she exclaimed, with one of those sweet and winning smiles of hers. "That's just my point. If you love me as you declare--and I believe you do--then you will trust me, and you will, when I assure you that I cannot tell you what has happened, refrain from further questioning me." Her argument was, certainly, one to which I could not very well reply. It was a curious argument, and aroused suspicion within me. She had now grown quite calm, and I could plainly see that she had at last recalled the past, yet she did not intend to make any statement whatever regarding it. Why? This disinclination to reveal to me the slightest fact was, in itself, most extraordinary. I then found myself reflecting upon the discovery of that secret memorandum in her card-case, and the allegation made against her by the red-tabbed Intelligence officer. I was on the point of telling her what had been discovered--the purport of the cipher-message and the suspicion which rested upon her. Yet, would that induce her to be frank and tell me the truth? I decided that it would not, therefore I said nothing. Instead, I remarked in a low, sympathetic voice: "I really think, darling, that it is due to me--to your people also--that you should tell us the truth of what happened to you, and of the identity of your enemies." "I have already told you, Claude," was her quiet response. "If you really love me, then you should at least trust me." "I do trust you, darling!" I protested quickly. "You surely know that! You are in possession of all the secrets of our invention, and--" "Ah! the invention--_the invention_!" she cried and, as she suddenly recollected it, her whole manner instantly changed. She started from her chair crying: "Yes--yes! Now I remember! I remember! It was awful--terrible--ugh! Ah! my poor brain!" and again she drew her hand across her brow. "My poor head!" She paused but, next second, she turned to me, exclaiming in a tone quite unusual to her: "No! I shall tell you nothing--I shall say nothing! I do not want to remember--I pray only to forget--yes, to forget all--everything. It is too horrible! Too cruel!" and I saw that my reference to our secret apparatus had stirred another chord in her memory--one that caused her both fierce anger and bitter remorse. That fact, in itself, revealed to me quite plainly that her tragic experiences, whatever they might have been, had some curious connexion with our invention for the destruction of Zeppelins. Thus, arguing with myself further, I became more than ever convinced that she, in all her innocence, had fallen defenceless into the unscrupulous grip of the terrible but relentless Invisible Hand. Why did she so persistently withhold from me the truth? What more natural than, knowing the identity of her enemies, she should seek to denounce and justly punish them? Now she was back at my side she surely could not fear them!