ittle talk." And he sat
down beside him on another chair.

* * * * *

Frank felt a little nervous, he scarcely knew why. It seemed to him that
it would be far better not to refer to the past at all. And it appeared
to him a little unusual that a doctor should be so anxious about it.
Twice or three times since yesterday this old man had begun to ask him a
question and had checked himself. There was a very curious eagerness
about him now.

"I'm awfully grateful and all that," said Frank. "Is there anything
special you want to know? I suppose I've been talking about my people?"

The doctor waved a wrinkled hand.

"No, no," he said, "not a word. You talked about a girl a little, of
course--everybody does; but not much. No, it isn't that."

Frank felt relieved. He wasn't anxious about anything else.

"I'm glad of that. By the way, may I smoke?"

The doctor produced a leather case of cigarettes and held it out.

"Take one of these," he said.

"Because," continued Frank, "I'm afraid I mustn't talk about my people.
The name I've got now is Gregory, you know." He lit his cigarette,
noticing how his fingers still shook, and dropped the match.

"No, it's not about that," said the doctor; "it's not about that."

Frank glanced at him, astonished by his manner.

"Well, then--?" he began.

"I want to know first," said the doctor slowly, "where you've got all
your ideas from. I've never heard such a jumble in my life. I know you
were delirious; but ... but it hung together somehow; and it seemed much
more real to you than anything else."

"What did?" asked Frank uncomfortably.

The doctor made no answer for a moment. He looked out across the untidy
garden with its rich, faded finery of wild flowers and autumn leaves,
and the yellowing foliage beyond the wall, and the moors behind--all
transfigured in October sunshine. The smoke of the burning weeds drew
heavenly lines and folds of ethereal lace-work across the dull splendors
beyond.

"Well," he said at last, "everything. You know I've heard hundreds and
hundreds of folks ..." he broke off again, "... and I know what people
call religion about here--and such a pack of nonsense ..." (He turned on
Frank again suddenly.) "Where d'you get your ideas from?"

"Do you mean the Catholic religion?" said Frank.

"Bah! don't call it that. I know what that is--" Frank interrupted him.

"Well, that's my religion," he said. "I haven't got any oth