ce and that of a mutual friend of yours and
his. He said he had often noticed it."

Garth, in his blindness, remained quite still; listening and
considering. At length he asked slowly: "Did he say whose voice?"

"Yes, for I asked him. He said it was Miss Champion's."

Garth's head dropped back upon the pillow. Then without turning he said
in a tone which Jane knew meant a smile on that dear hidden face: "You
must forgive me, Miss Gray, for being so startled and so stupidly,
unpardonably agitated. But, you know, being blind is still such a new
experience, and every fresh voice which breaks through the black
curtain of perpetual night, means so infinitely more than the speaker
realises. The resemblance in your voice to that of the lady Sir Deryck
mentioned is so remarkable that, although I know her to be at this
moment in Egypt, I could scarcely believe she was not in the room. And
yet the most unlikely thing in the world would be that she should have
been in this room. So I owe you and Dr. Mackenzie most humble apologies
for my agitation and unbelief."

He stretched out his right hand, palm upwards, towards Jane.

Jane clasped her shaking hands behind her.

"Now, Nurse, if you please," broke in Dr. Mackenzie's rasping voice
from the window, "I have a few more details to explain to you over
here."

They talked together for a while without interruption, until Dr. Rob
remarked: "I suppose I will have to be going."

Then Garth said: "I wish to speak to you alone, doctor, for a few
minutes."

"I will wait for you downstairs, Dr. Mackenzie," said Jane, and was
moving towards the door, when an imperious gesture from Dr. Rob stopped
her, and she turned silently to the fireplace. She could not see any
need now for this subterfuge, and it annoyed her. But the freckled
little Napoleon of the moors was not a man to be lightly disobeyed. He
walked to the door, opened and closed it; then returned to the bedside,
drew up a chair, and sat down.

"Now, Mr. Dalmain," he said.

Garth sat up and turned towards him eagerly.

Then, for the first time, Jane saw his face.

"Doctor," he said, "tell me about this nurse. Describe her to me."

The tension in tone and attitude was extreme. His hands were clasped in
front of him, as if imploring sight through the eyes of another. His
thin white face, worn with suffering, looked so eager and yet so blank.

"Describe her to me, doctor," he said; "this Nurse Rosemary Gray, as
you call