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for their age than English ones, and take more interest in scientific subjects.
"When I came to, Mrs. Vandemeyer was sweet as honey to me. She'd had her
orders, I guess. She spoke to me in French--told me I'd had a shock and been
very ill. I should be better soon. I pretended to be rather dazed--murmured
something about the 'doctor' having hurt my wrist. She looked relieved when I
said that.
"By and by she went out of the room altogether. I was suspicious still, and lay
quite quiet for some time. In the end, however, I got up and walked round the
room, examining it. I thought that even if anyone WAS watching me from
somewhere, it would seem natural enough under the circumstances. It was a
squalid, dirty place. There were no windows, which seemed queer. I guessed the
door would be locked, but I didn't try it. There were some battered old pictures on
the walls, representing scenes from Faust."
Jane's two listeners gave a simultaneous "Ah!" The girl nodded.
"Yes--it was the place in Soho where Mr. Beresford was imprisoned. Of course, at
the time I didn't even know if I was in London. One thing was worrying me
dreadfully, but my heart gave a great throb of relief when I saw my ulster lying
carelessly over the back of a chair. AND THE MAGAZINE WAS STILL ROLLED UP
IN THE POCKET!
"If only I could be certain that I was not being overlooked! I looked carefully round
the walls. There didn't seem to be a peep-hole of any kind--nevertheless I felt kind
of sure there must be. All of a sudden I sat down on the edge of the table, and put
my face in my hands, sobbing out a 'Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!' I've got very sharp
ears. I distinctly heard the rustle of a dress, and slight creak. That was enough
for me. I was being watched!
"
I lay down on the bed again, and by and by Mrs. Vandemeyer brought me some
supper. She was still sweet as they make them. I guess she'd been told to win my
confidence. Presently she produced the oilskin packet, and asked me if I
recognized it, watching me like a lynx all the time.
"I took it and turned it over in a puzzled sort of way. Then I shook my head. I said
that I felt I OUGHT to remember something about it, that it was just as though it
was all coming back, and then, before I could get hold of it, it went again. Then
she told me that I was her niece, and that I was to call her 'Aunt Rita.' I did
obediently, and she told me not to worry--my memory would soon come back.
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