over the telling of it; it was such a
strange phase of delusion. In fact, he had said to himself that it must
be a genuine memory, ascribed to the wrong persons. He went on to a
cold-blooded use of her minutest details, still keeping the hand he held
in his. "You see, Mrs. Prichard's point was this--don't take your hand
away; I haven't quite done with it--her point was that your arm and your
sister's were exactly of a size...."

"We were twins."

"Precisely. And your two little paws, being young kids, or youngish...."

"We were just children. I mind it well. 'Twas a sort of game, to see how
our hands grew. But...."

"Let me finish. This old woman, when she went touring about to have a
look at the model that had given her such a turn overnight, found that
her own arm was well two-thirds the length of it, and something over.
She was cocksure the two small arms only just covered it, because unless
one cheated and pushed her elbow over the edge, your middle fingers
wouldn't jam and go cleck--like this.... That's why I wanted your hand
for--that'll do!... There was such a funny name she called it by--the
finger-tips jamming, I mean...."

Granny Marrable was pressing the released hand on her eyes and forehead.
"You fairly make my head spin, doctor, digging up of old-time memories.
But whatever was the funny name? Can't ye recollect?"

"It was sheer gibberish, you know...."

"Can't ye call the gibberish to mind?" This was asked earnestly, and
made Dr. Nash feel he was on the right tack.

"One can't speak positively to gibberish. The nearest I can go to the
word Mrs. Prichard used is"--the doctor paused under the weight of his
responsibility for accuracy--"the, nearest, I, can, go is ...
_spud-clicket_." He waited, really anxiously. If, rather than admit a
suspicion of the truth, she could believe that such a piece of infant
jargon could dwell correctly for decades in the mind of a chance hearer,
she could believe anything.

He was utterly taken aback when equable and easy speech, with a sound of
relief in every word, came from lips which he thought must at least be
tremulous. "Well--there now! Doesn't that show? Only Maisie _could_ have
told her that word. It's all right. But I'm none so sure, mind you, that
I could have remembered it right, myself."

It seemed perfectly hopeless. So said the doctor to himself. Surely, in
this long interview, he had tried all that suggestion could do to get a
fulcrum to raise the d