window, were the only living creatures near him, as he roused himself
and looked around.

Where was the College? Where were the Curator and the Specimen? Those
questions brought with them no feeling of anxiety or surprise. He
turned, in a half-awakened way, without a wish or a purpose--turned,
and listlessly looked back.

Two foot-passengers, dressed in mourning garments, were rapidly
approaching him. One of them, as they came nearer, proved to be an aged
woman. The other was a girl.

He drew aside to let them pass. They looked at him with the lukewarm
curiosity of strangers, as they went by. The girl's eyes and his met.
Only the glance of an instant--and its influence held him for life.

She went swiftly on, as little impressed by the chance meeting as the
old woman at her side. Without stopping to think--without being capable
of thought--Ovid followed them. Never before had he done what he was
doing now; he was, literally, out of himself. He saw them ahead of him,
and he saw nothing else.

Towards the middle of the square, they turned aside into a street on
the left. A concert-hall was in the street--with doors open for an
afternoon performance. They entered the hall. Still out of himself,
Ovid followed them.

CHAPTER III.

A room of magnificent size; furnished with every conventional luxury