ll where Fenwick lit his cigar.
Vereker suggested turning back; and, accordingly, they turned. The
doctor found time to make up his mind that no harm could be done now
by referring to his interview with Rosalind, the day before.

"Your wife told me yesterday that you had just had a tiresome
recurrence when you came out after us--at the jetty-end, you know."

"Surely! So I had. Did she tell you what it was?" Evidently, in the
stress and turmoil of his subsequent experience in the night, it had
slipped from him. The doctor said a reminding word or two, and it
came back.

"I know, I know. I've got it now. That was last night. But now--that
again! _Why_ was it so horrible? That was dear old Kreutzkammer, at
'Frisco. What could there be horrible about _him_?..." A clear idea
shot into the doctor's mind--not a bad thing to work on.

"Fenwick!--don't you see how it is? These things are only horrible
to you _because_ you half recollect them. The pain is only the baffled
strain on the memory, not the thing you are trying to recover."

"Very likely." He assents, but his mind is dwelling on Kreutzkammer,
evidently. For he breaks into a really cheerful laugh, pleasant in
the ears of his companion. "Why, _that_ was Diedrich Kreutzkammer!"
he exclaims, "up at that Swiss place. And I didn't know him from Adam!"

"Of course it was. But look here, Fenwick--isn't what I say true?
Half the things that come back to you will be no pain at all when
you have fairly got hold of them. Only, _wait_! Don't struggle to
remember, but let them come."

"All right, old chap! I'll be good." But he has no very strong
convictions on the subject, clearly. The two walk on together in
silence as far as the low flint wall, in another recess of which
Fenwick lights another cigar, as before. Then he turns to the doctor
and says:

"Not a word of this to Rosey--nor to Sallykin!" The doctor seems
perplexed, but assents and promises. "Honest Injun!--as Sally says,"
adds Fenwick. And the doctor repeats that affidavit, and then says:

"I shall have to finesse a good deal. I can manage with Mrs. Fenwick.
But--I wish I felt equally secure with Miss Sally." He feels very
insecure indeed in that quarter, if the truth is told. And he is
afflicted with a double embarrassment here, as he has never left Sally
without her "miss" in speaking to Fenwick, while, on the other hand,
he holds a definite licence from her mother--is, as it were, a
chartered libertine. But