"I saw he was a friar," murmured the other.

"Oh! you recognized his habit then? There, you see; your
memory's not really gone. And . . . and what's the answer to
_Dominus vobiscum_?"

"_Et cum spiritu tuo._"

The priest smiled, and the pressure on the man's arm relaxed.

"That's excellent. It's only a partial obscurity. Why didn't you
understand me when I spoke to you in Latin then?"

"That was Latin? I thought so. But you spoke too fast; and I'm
not accustomed to speak it."

The old man looked at him with grave humour. "Not accustomed to
speak it, Monsignor! Why----" (He broke off again.) "Look out of
the window, please. Where are we?"

The other looked out. (He felt greatly elated and comforted. It
was quite true; his memory was not altogether gone then. Surely
he would soon be well again!) Out of the windows in front, but
seeming to wheel swiftly to the left as the car whisked round to
the right, was the Victoria Tower. He noticed that the hour
pointed to five minutes before one.

"Those are the Houses of Parliament," he said. "And what's that
tall pillar in the middle of Parliament Square?"