a fairly sane citizen myself,
but if you asked me which suit I wore yesterday, I couldn't tell you."

"You couldn't suddenly put on red clothes without knowing it, if you had
been wearing black clothes for years, could you?" she demanded.

He laughed. "When it comes to clothes I might do anything. I might wear
a straw hat in January. But I couldn't go out of the house without
knowing it. Do you mean to tell me you don't remember going out of the
house last night?"

"I certainly do not. I remember nothing about it. I would have sworn
that I went to bed early," she insisted.

"Hm! Have you any idea where you went?"

"Yes--I know where I went, but I only know this from my dream. I know I
went to Captain Herrick's studio. You--you can ask him."

"Of course. You haven't asked him yourself--you haven't telephoned, have
you?"

"No, no! I would be ashamed to ask him."

The doctor noted her increasing agitation and the flood of color
mounting to her cheeks.

"Steady now! Take it easy. Have you any idea what you did at the studio,
assuming that you really went there?"

Penelope hesitated, biting her lips. "I know what I saw myself do in the
dream. I acted in an impossible way. I--I--here is a little thing--you
know I never smoke, but in the dream I did smoke."

"Have you ever smoked?"

"Yes, I did when my husband was living. He taught me. He said I was a
better sport when I was smoking a cigarette."

"But you haven't smoked since your husband's death?"

"Not at all. I have not smoked once since he died, not once--until last
night."

The man of science eyed her searchingly. "Mrs. Wells, you are not hiding
anything from me, are you?"

"No! No! Of course not! Don't frown at me like that--please don't. I am
trying my best to tell you the truth. I _know_ these things did not
happen, but--"

Here her self-control left her and, with a gesture of despair, Penelope
sank forward on a little table beside her chair and sobbed hysterically,
her face hidden in her arms.

"There! There!" soothed Dr. Owen. "I was a brute. I have taxed you
beyond your strength."

"I can't tell you how grateful I am for your patience and sympathy,"
murmured Penelope through her tears, and, presently, regaining her
composure, she continued her confession.

"I want you to know everything--now. In my dream there was a scene of
passion between Captain Herrick and myself. He held me in his arms and
kissed me and I--I responded. We both seeme