always, although their pulls are never irresolute. On two of these sat
Sally and the doctor in earnest conversation.

Rosalind and her husband looked at each other and said, "No!" This
might have been rendered, "Matters are no forwarder." It connected
itself (without acknowledgment) with the distance apart of the two
cable-blocks. Never mind; let them alone!

"Are you going to sit there till the tide goes down?"

"Oh, is that you? We didn't see you coming."

"You'll have to look sharp, or you'll be wet through...."

"No, we _shan't_! You only have to wait a minute and get in
between...."

Easier said than done! A big wave, that was just in time to overhear
this conversation imperfectly, thought it would like to wet Sally
through, and leaped against the bulwark of the jetty. But it spent
itself in a huge torrential deluge while Sally waited a minute. A
friend followed it, but made a poor figure by comparison. Then Sally
got in between, followed by the doctor.... Well! they were really not
so _very_ wet, after all! Sally was worst, as she was too previous.
She got implicated in the friend's last dying splash, while Prosy
got nearly scot-free. So said Sally to Fenwick as they walked briskly
ahead towards home, leaving the others to make their own pace. Because
it was a case of changing everything, and dinner was always so early
at St. Sennans.

"Let them go on in front. I want to talk to you, Dr. Conrad."
Rosalind, perhaps, thinks his attention won't wander if she takes a
firm tone; doesn't feel sure about it, otherwise. Maybe Sally is too
definitely in possession of the citadel to allow of an incursion from
without. She continues: "I have something to tell you. Don't look
frightened. It is nothing but what you have predicted yourself. My
husband's memory is coming back. I don't know whether I ought to say
I am afraid or I hope it is so...."

"But are you sure it is so?"

"Yes, listen! It has all happened since you and Sally left." And then
she narrated to the doctor, whose preoccupation had entirely vanished,
first the story of the recurrence, and Fenwick's description of it
in full; and then the incident of the Baron at Sonnenberg, but less
in detail. Then she went on, walking slower, not to reach the
house too soon. "Now, this is the thing that makes me so sure it is
recollection: just now, as we were coming to the jetty, he asked me
suddenly what was the Baron's name. I gave a wrong version of it, and
he c