“You spoke of wanting a statement from her,” he said. “Supposing she is not able to give one?”
“What? You have just said that she is perfectly sane.”
“So she is. Nevertheless, if you want a statement from her concerning any events prior to May 7, 1915, she will not be able to give it to you.”
They looked at the little man, stupefied. He nodded cheerfully.
“It’s a pity,” he said. “A great pity, especially as I gather, Sir James, that the matter is important. But there it is, she can tell you nothing.”
“But why, man? Darn it all, why?”
The little man shifted his benevolent glance to the excited young American.
“Because Janet Vandemeyer is suffering from a complete loss of memory.”
“What?”
“Quite so. An interesting case, a very interesting case. Not so uncommon, really, as you would think. There are several very well known parallels. It’s the first case of the kind that I’ve had under my own personal observation, and I must admit that I’ve found it of absorbing interest.” There was something rather ghoulish in the little man’s satisfaction.