The Halifax incident had so completely faded from my mind that I could not for the moment imagine what she meant.
"The young man you told me about yesterday afternoon, ma'am," Mrs Levret answered stoutly.
"But I can't do anything about him. What should I do?"
Then she took up her parable in these words:
"Well, ma'am, I have been thinking a deal about that young man since yesterday. It seemed to take a sort of hold upon me. It seems given to me, ma'am, that it is a young woman who is haunting him—a young woman who is not in his own rank in life—someone whom he wronged."
I was amazed by these words, and still more by the keen interest Mrs Levret showed in the subject.
"But what can I do in the matter, even if it be as you say?" was my next question.
"Well, ma'am, they give me to understand that the young man must be made to confess. He will never have any peace until he does. It seems to me you might get him to confess."
Now there could be no question of confession on the outer plane, as the young man was a perfect stranger to me, and there was small chance of our ever meeting again.
But I was aware that Mrs Levret was not speaking of the outer plane, so I agreed to take pencil and paper, and see if I could bring the spirit of Henry Halifax to me, and having done so, whether I could induce him to tell me the truth.