ight?"

"Not exactly. That is, he seems very nervous. Do you know
anything about him?"

"Oh, yes! He's a star patient here, a psychopathic case. I had
just been talking to one of the doctors about him, when I came
out and saw you with him. He was shot in the neck at Cantigny,
where he lost his arm. The wound healed, but his memory is
affected; some nerve cut, I suppose, that connects with that part
of his brain. This psychopath, Phillips, takes a great interest
in him and keeps him here to observe him. He's writing a book
about him. He says the fellow has forgotten almost everything
about his life before he came to France. The queer thing is, it's
his recollection of women that is most affected. He can remember
his father, but not his mother; doesn't know if he has sisters or
not,--can remember seeing girls about the house, but thinks they
may have been cousins. His photographs and belongings were lost
when he was hurt, all except a bunch of letters he had in his
pocket. They are from a girl he's engaged to, and he declares he
can't remember her at all; doesn't know what she looks like or
anything about her, and can't remember getting engaged. The
doctor has the letters. They seem to be from a nice girl in his
own town who is very ambitious for him to make the most of
himself. He deserted soon after he was sent to this hospital, ran
away. He was found on a farm out in the country here, where the
sons had been killed and the people had sort of adopted him. He'd
quit his uniform and was wearing the clothes of one of the dead
sons. He'd probably have got away with it, if he hadn't had that
wry neck. Some one saw him in the fields and recognized him and
reported him. I guess nobody cared much but this psychopathic
doctor; he wanted to get his pet patient back. They call him 'the
lost American' here."

"He seems to be doing some sort of clerical work," Claude
observed discreetly.

"Yes, they say he's very well educated. He remembers the books he
has read better than his own life. He can't recall what his home
town looks like, or his home. And the women are clear wiped out,
even the girl he was going to marry."

Claude smiled. "Maybe he's fortunate in that."

The Doctor turned to him affectionately, "Now Claude, don't begin
to talk like that the minute you land in this country."

Claude walked on past the church of St. Jacques. Last night
already seemed like a dream, but it haunted him. He wished he
could do somet