"Bay." "Beach."

"Road." "Forest."

"Gate." "Fence."

"Path." "Shrubs."

"Porch." "House."

Did I detect or imagine a faint hesitation?

"Window." "Curtain."

Yes, it was plain that time. But the words followed one another
in quick succession. There was no rest. She had no chance to
collect herself. I noted the marked difference in the reaction
time and, in my sympathy, damned this cold; scientific third
degree.

"Paris." "France."

"Quartier Latin." "Students."

"Apaches." Craig gave it its Gallicised pronunciation, "Apash."
"Really, Dr. Kennedy," she said, "there is nothing I can
associate with them--well, yes, les vaches, I believe. You had
better count that question out. I've wasted a good many seconds."