"It's a pity," he said. "A great pity, especially as I gather,
Sir James, that the matter is important. But there it is, she
can tell you nothing."

"But why, man? Darn it all, why?"

The little man shifted his benevolent glance to the excited young
American.

"Because Janet Vandemeyer is suffering from a complete loss of
memory."

"WHAT?"

"Quite so. An interesting case, a very interesting case. Not so
uncommon, really, as you would think. There are several very
well known parallels. It's the first case of the kind that I've
had under my own personal observation, and I must admit that I've
found it of absorbing interest." There was something rather
ghoulish in the little man's satisfaction.

"And she remembers nothing," said Sir James slowly.

"Nothing prior to May 7, 1915. After that date her memory is as
good as yours or mine."

"Then the first thing she remembers?"

"Is landing with the survivors. Everything before that is a
blank. She did not know her own name, or where she had come from,