at I should do! Or anyone else!"

Gwen restated the problem, for her father's benefit. "I am with you,
General," said he. "I cannot speculate on what I should do. I am
inclined to think that the twinship has had something to do with the
comparative rapidity of the ... recohesion...."

"Very good word, papa! Quite suits the case."

"... recohesion of these two old ladies. When we consider how very early
in life they took their meals together...." The General murmured _sotto
voce_:--"Before they were born." "... we must admit that their case is
absolutely exceptional--absolutely!"

"You mean," said Gwen, "that if they had not been twins they would not
have swallowed each other down, as they have done."

"Exactly," said the Earl.

"And yet," Gwen continued, "they never remember things as they happened.
In fact, they are still in a sort of fog about what _has_ happened. But
they are quite sure they are Maisie and Phoebe. I do think, though,
there is only one thing about Maisie's Australian life that Granny
Marrable believes, and that is the devil that got possession of the
convict husband.... _Why_ does she? Because devils are in the Bible, of
course." Here the devil story was retold for the benefit of the General,
who did not know it.

The Earl did, so he did not listen. He employed himself thinking over
practicable answers to the question before the house, and was just in
time to avert a polemic about the authenticity of the Bible, a subject
on which the General held strong views. "What helps me to an idea of a
possible attitude of mind before a resurrection of this sort," he said,
"is what sometimes happens when you wake up from a dream years long, a
dream as long as a lifetime. Just the first moment of all, you can
hardly believe yourself free of the horrid entanglement you had got
involved in...."

"I know," said Gwen. "The other night I dreamed I was going to be
married to a young gentleman I had known from childhood. Only he was a
kettle-holder with a parrot on it."

"Didn't I object?" said the Earl.

"You were upstairs. Don't ask explanations. That was all there was in
the dream. You were upstairs. And the dream had been all my life. Don't
fidget about particulars."

"I won't. That's the sort of dream I mean. It seems all perfectly right
and sound until your waking life comes back, and then vanishes. You only
regret your friends in the dream for a few seconds, and then--they are
nobody!"

"Don't quit