was a palace of dream and vision. And in the background stood Perkins.

“By George!” he said under his breath.

“I thought you’d like it, sir.”

She was half invisible, and he started violently. “It’s wonderful, but I expected that.”

“Yes, it’s strange how one can tell.”

He glanced at her, as though he had known her all his life. “There is something about this room, and I felt it the first time I came in. How old is it?”

“It has no age, sir.”

Derrick did not seem surprised. “I thought you’d say that.” He paused; then as though resuming some previous talk, “Who else has felt it?”

“Only Mr. Millicent since I came here, and his daughter. It was different with Mrs. Millicent, and she was frightened.”

“I think I understand that, too. Was this his favorite room?”

“Yes, that is his desk. I think that at the end he was frightened as well.”

“And you found him. How was that?”

She made an indefinite gesture. “They sent for me.”

Again he felt nothing of surprise. “Yes, because they had seen and knew. But why did you stay here after it happened?”

Perkins took one long, uncertain breath. “I did go away for a week, but I couldn’t stay. It was all silent in London where I went. Then I knew that it—that they would not let me remain away, so I had to come back.” She gazed round this well-remembered room and seemed to signal that she acknowledged its potency.

Derrick looked at the littered desk and into the mask-like face. Her eyes were alight now, and not those of a lonely woman. She was, as it were, surrounded by friends. He wondered if they would ever be his friends.

“Do you mind talking like this? I think I understand, but most people wouldn’t.”

“It makes me happier. For two years there have been no living words about it. I could never find any one who understood at all since it happened, and Miss Millicent would 

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