"No." It was Stephen's turn to believe that some form of aphasia had blotted out a part of his past.
"You came to see my father the day he died, you and Mrs. Lanfair."
Stephen frowned; his lifted hand covered his lips; then he leaned backward into the shadow. He was shocked beyond expression.
"Not Edward Levis!" said he, at last quietly.
"Yes."
"You were the young girl who begged us to stay to supper? You were studying with your father and you had a little table by the window?"
"Yes."
"Your father isn't dead!"
"He died that evening of heart trouble."