Dr. Owen tried to take this lightly. “I'm a fairly sane citizen myself, but if you asked me which suit I wore yesterday, I couldn't tell you.”
“You couldn't suddenly put on red clothes without knowing it, if you had been wearing black clothes for years, could you?” she demanded.
He laughed. “When it comes to clothes I might do anything. I might wear a straw hat in January. But I couldn't go out of the house without knowing it. Do you mean to tell me you don't remember going out of the house last night?”
“I certainly do not. I remember nothing about it. I would have sworn that I went to bed early,” she insisted.
“Hm! Have you any idea where you went?”
“Yes—I know where I went, but I only know this from my dream. I know I went to Captain Herrick's studio. You—you can ask him.”
“Of course. You haven't asked him yourself—you haven't telephoned, have you?”
“No, no! I would be ashamed to ask him.”
The doctor noted her increasing agitation and the flood of color mounting to her cheeks.
“Steady now! Take it easy. Have you any idea what you did at the studio, assuming that you really went there?”