t me with an
intelligent but puzzled expression. I said, 'Do you know me, Dick?'
He answered, 'I never saw you before. Who are you? And my name is not
Dick. I am George Moore, and Dick died of yellow fever yesterday!
Where am I? What has happened to me?' I--I fainted, Anne. And ever
since I have felt as if I were in a dream."

"You will soon adjust yourself to this new state of things, Leslie.
And you are young--life is before you--you will have many beautiful
years yet."

"Perhaps I shall be able to look at it in that way after a while, Anne.
Just now I feel too tired and indifferent to think about the future.
I'm--I'm--Anne, I'm lonely. I miss Dick. Isn't it all very strange?
Do you know, I was really fond of poor Dick--George, I suppose I should
say--just as I would have been fond of a helpless child who depended on
me for everything. I would never have admitted it--I was really
ashamed of it--because, you see, I had hated and despised Dick so much
before he went away. When I heard that Captain Jim was bringing him
home I expected I would just feel the same to him. But I never
did--although I continued to loathe him as I remembered him before.
From the time he came home I felt only pity--a pity that hurt and wrung
me. I supposed then that it was just because his accident had made him
so helpless and changed. But now I believe it was because there was
really a different personality there. Carlo knew it, Anne--I know now
that Carlo knew it. I always thought it strange that Carlo shouldn't
have known Dick. Dogs are usually so faithful. But HE knew it was not
his master who had come back, although none of the rest of us did. I
had never seen George Moore, you know. I remember now that Dick once
mentioned casually that he had a cousin in Nova Scotia who looked as
much like him as a twin; but the thing had gone out of my memory, and
in any case I would never have thought it of any importance. You see,
it never occurred to me to question Dick's identity. Any change in him
seemed to me just the result of the accident.

"Oh, Anne, that night in April when Gilbert told me he thought Dick
might be cured! I can never forget it. It seemed to me that I had
once been a prisoner in a hideous cage of torture, and then the door
had been opened and I could get out. I was still chained to the cage
but I was not in it. And that night I felt that a merciless hand was
drawing me back into the cage--back to a to