This conversation left me still more anxious to see Avis, and I looked for
her return every moment, but the morning passed and finally the day wore
to its close without bringing us together. I did not like to make my
strong desire known by asking after her, and, besides, I began to have a
slight suspicion that there was some design in keeping us from meeting.

When it was time to retire that night I took the doctor to my room, and I
think it was a surprise to both of us when we fell to talking about Mona
again. At my request the doctor related at considerable length our
experience on the moon, as he remembered it, and set Mona out in most
attractive style. I let him go on, without laughing at him as I had
formerly done, and the longer he talked the more serious and thoughtful I
became. As he told the details of our daily life, recalling many of Mona's
words and actions, a new thought flashed through my mind--the thought that
possibly the doctor was right after all. At that instant, when my interest
was most intense, once more the distant echoes of that happy song fell
upon my ear.

That was the magic influence needed for my restoration. At once, and all
at once, down fell the walls that had so unhappily obscured my mental
vision, and left my memory clear as day. I jumped from my seat, seized the
doctor's hand, and exclaimed:

"I see it all now, old fellow. You were right and I was the crazy one."

"Good, I rejoice with you."

With that voice coming nearer and pouring its melody upon us, we could not
say more at the time. I threw myself into a chair, let my head fall back,