"Monsignor, be quiet, please. You mustn't give way. Surely----"

"I tell you I can remember nothing. . . . It's all gone. I don't
know who you are. I don't know what day it is, or what year it
is, or anything----"

He felt a hand on his arm, and his eyes met a look of a very
peculiar power and concentration. He sank back into his seat
strangely quieted and soothed.

"Now, Monsignor, listen to me. You know who I am"--(he broke
off). "I'm Father Jervis. I know about these things. I've been
through the psychological schools. You'll be all right presently,
I hope. But you must be perfectly quiet----"

"Tell me who I am," stammered the man.

"Listen then. You are Monsignor Masterman, secretary to the Cardinal.
You are going back to Westminster now, in your own car----"

"What's been going on? What was all that crowd about?"

Still the eyes were on him, compelling and penetrating.

"You have been presiding at the usual midday Saturday sermon in
Hyde Park, on behalf of the Missions to the East. Do you remember
now? No! Well, it doesn't matter in the least. That was Father
Anthony who was preaching. He was a little nervous, you noticed.
It was his first sermon in Hyde Park."