As she finished reading her account, she exclaimed in the passionate
tones of the deepest conviction,

"There, doctor! Have n't I found the true story of this strange visitor?
Have n't I solved the riddle of the Sphinx? Who can this man be but the
boy of that story? Look at the date of the journal when he was eleven
years old, it would make him twenty-five now, and that is just about the
age the people here think he must be of. What could account so entirely
for his ways and actions as that strange poisoning which produces the
state they call Tarantism? I am just as sure it must be that as I am
that I am alive. Oh, doctor, doctor, I must be right,--this Signprino M
. . . Ch . . . was the boy Maurice Kirkwood, and the story accounts
for everything,--his solitary habits, his dread of people,--it must be
because they wear the colors he can't bear. His morning rides on
horseback, his coming here just as the season was approaching which would
aggravate all his symptoms, does n't all this prove that I must be right
in my conjecture,--no, my conviction?"

The doctor knew too much to interrupt the young enthusiast, and so he let
her run on until she ran down. He was more used to the rules of evidence
than she was, and could not accept her positive conclusion so readily as
she would have liked to have him. He knew that beginners are very apt to
make what they think are discoveries. But he had been an angler and knew
the meaning of a yielding rod and an easy-running reel. He said quietly,

"You are a most sagacious young lady, and a very pretty prima facie case
it is that you make out. I can see no proof that Mr. Kirkwood is not the
same person as the M . . . Ch . . . of the medical journal,--that
is, if I accept your explanation of the difference in the initials of
these two names. Even if there were a difference, that would not
disprove their identity, for the initials of patients whose cases are
reported by their physicians are often altered for the purpose of
concealment. I do not know, however, that Mr. Kirkwood has shown any
special aversion to any particular color. It might be interesting to
inquire whether it is so, but it is a delicate matter. I don't exactly
see whose business it is to investigate Mr. Maurice Kirkwood's
idiosyncrasies and constitutional history. If he should have occasion to
send for me at any time, he might tell me all about himself, in
confidence, you know. These old accounts from Baglivi are curi