“I thought I was at Madame de Vaurigard's.”
“You were,” said the other, adding grimly: “We both were.”
“But that was only a minute ago.”
“It was six hours ago. It's goin' on ten o'clock in the morning.”
“I don't understand how that can be. How did I get here?”
“I brought you. I was pretty bad, but you—I never saw anything like you! From the time you kissed Lady Mount-Rhyswicke—”
Mellin sat bolt upright in bed, staring wildly. He began to tremble violently.
“Don't you remember that?” asked Cooley.
Suddenly he did. The memory of it came with inexorable clarity, he crossed forearms over his horror-stricken face and fell back upon his pillow.
“Oh,” he gasped. “Un-speakable! Un-speakable!”