And suddenly, like a flash in a vacuum, the
thought shot through his brain that he had seen
this very scene somewhere--in a dream, in a
remote childhood, in a previous existence, he did
not know when or where. It seemed strangely
familiar, and in the next instant strangely mean-
ingless and unreal. The walls, the floor--
everything began to move, to whirl about him; he
struck his hands against his forehead, and sank
down into a damask-covered easy-chair. With
a faint cry of alarm, Edith sprang up, seized a
bottle of cologne which happened to be within
reach, and knelt down at his side. She put her
arm around his neck, and raised his head.

"Mr. Birch, dear Mr. Birch," she cried, in a
frightened whisper, "for God's sake come to
yourself! O God, what have I done?"

She blew the eau-de-cologne into his face,
and, as he languidly opened his eyes, he felt the
touch of her warm hand upon his cheeks and his
forehead.

"Thank heaven! he is better," she murmured,
still continuing to bathe his temples. "How do
you feel now, Mr. Birch?" she added, in a tone
of anxious inquiry.

"Thank you, it was an unpardonable weakness,"