"It looks like it," she answered, wearily, her thoughts already far
away. "Why shouldn't you? There are so many odd things of the sort. But
one can never be sure; it mightn't work next time."

"Will you try again?" he asked.

"If you like," she answered; "but I don't believe I shall hear anything
now. Somehow--since that last business--everything seems different to
me."

"Don't be foolish," he said; "you have nothing to do with the hearing;
it is my new receiver."

"I daresay," she replied; "but, then, why couldn't you make it work with
other people?"

Morris answered nothing. He, too, wondered why.

Next morning they made the experiment. It failed. Other experiments
followed at intervals, most of which were fiascos, although some were
partially successful. Thus, at times Mary could hear what he said. But
except for a word or two, and now and then a sentence, he could not hear
her whom, when she was still a child and his playmate, once he had heard
so clearly.

"Why is it?" he said, a year or two later, dashing his fist upon the
table in impotent rage. "It has been; why can't it be?"

Mary turned her large blue eyes up to the ceiling, and reflectively