leave Harley Street somewhat
hurriedly, and I had not time to dress."

She sat down and loosened her veil.

"Last night a dreadful thing happened," she said. "And yet, although it
was dreadful, I do not feel upset about it. I have been trying to feel
upset--as I should--but I can't. Let me tell you about it. I lay down
yesterday afternoon in my room after tea to rest. I always do that when
I can. I think I fell asleep for a moment. Then I felt a curious light
feeling, as if I had suddenly been for a long holiday, and I got up.
Alexis, when I saw myself in the glass I was horrified. I had the Blue
Disease."

"Of course," said Sarakoff. "You were bound to get it. You knew that."

"I didn't know what to do. I wasn't very upset, only I felt something
dreadful had happened. Well, I went to the Opera as usual and everyone
was very sympathetic, but I said I was all right. But when my call came
I suddenly knew--quite calmly, but certainly--that I could not sing
properly. I went on the stage and began, but it was just as if I were
singing for the first time in my life. They had to ring the curtain
down. I apologized. I was quite calm and smiling. But there the fact
remained--I had lost my voice. I had failed in public."

"Extraordinary," muttered Sarakoff. "Are you sure it was not just
nervousness?"

"No, I'm certain of that. I felt absolutely self-possessed; far more so
that I usually do, and that is saying a lot. No, my voice has gone. The
Blue Disease has destroyed it. And yet I somehow don't feel any
resentment. I don't understand. Richard, tell me what has happened."

I shook my head.

"I don't know," I said. "I can't explain. The germ is doing things that
I never foresaw."

"I ought to be furious with you," she said.

"Try to be--if you can," smiled Sarakoff. "That's one of the strange
things. I can't be furious. I have only two emotions--perfect calmness,
or violent, horrible fear."

"Fear?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, fear of the worst kind conceivable."

"I understand the perfect calmness," she said, "but the fear--no."

"You will understand in time."

The policeman listened to our conversation with grave attention. Leonora
was sitting between Sarakoff and me, and did not seem to find the
presence of the visitor surprising. The green limousine stood in the
road before us, the chauffeur sitting at the wheel looking steadily in
front of him. The Heath seemed remarkably empty. The mist over London
was liftin