ss candour, "I do not concern myself
with what is called Spiritism--with trances, table-tipping,
table-rapping, slate-writing, apparitions, reincarnations--with
cabinets, curtains, darkened rooms, psychic circles."

"You employ a crystal in your profession."

"Yes. I need not."

"Why do you do it, then?"

"Some clients ask for it."

"And you see things in it?"

"Yes," said the girl simply.

"And when your clients do not demand a crystal-reading?"

"I can see perfectly well without it--when I can see clearly at all."

"Into the future?"

"Sometimes."

"The past, too, of course."

"Not always."

She fascinated the non-scientific side of this famous physician; he
interested her intensely.

"Do you know," she ventured with a faint smile, "that you are really
quite as psychically endowed as I am?"

His handsome, sanguine features flushed deeply, but he smiled in
appreciation.

"Not in the manner you so saucily imply, Miss Greensleeve," he said
gaily. "My work is sound, logical, reasonable, and based on
fundamental truths capable of being proven. I never saw an apparition
in my life--and believed that it was really there!"

"Oh! So you _have_ seen an apparition?"

"None that could have really existed independently of my own vision.
In other words it wouldn't have been there at all if I hadn't supposed
I had seen it."

"You _did_ suppose so?"

"I knew perfectly well that I didn't see it. I didn't even think I saw
it."

"But you _saw_ it?"

"I imagined I did, and at the same time I knew I didn't."

"Yes," she said quietly, "you did see it, Dr. Westland. You have seen
it more than once. You will see it again."

A heavier colour dyed his face; he started impatiently as though to
check her--as though to speak; and did not.

She said: "If what I say is distasteful to you, please stop me." She
waited a moment; then, as he evinced no desire to check or interrupt
her: "I _am_ very diffident about saying this to you--to a man so
justly celebrated--pre-eminent in the greatest of all professions. I
am so insignificant in comparison, so unimportant, so ignorant where
you are experienced and learned.

"But may I say to you that nothing dies? I am not referring to a
possible spiritual world inhabited perhaps by souls. I mean that here,
on this earth, all around us, nothing that has ever lived really
dies.... Is what I say distasteful to you?"

He offered no reply.

"Because," she said in a low voice,