He was a man of powerful build, and gave one the impression of great size, although not in reality above medium height. His shoulders, however, were very broad and thick, his neck short and powerful, his head large, with heavy iron-gray hair. A short beard of the same color covered the lower part of his face, while through a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles his eyes shone with piercing brightness. Grace thought, as he came toward her, that she had seldom seen a more striking-looking man.
"Be seated, miss," he said, addressing her in English, though with a decided accent. "You are Miss Grace Ellicott, I believe." He glanced at the card which he held in his hand.
"Yes," said Grace, nervously taking a seat.
"Mr. Phelps tells me you suffer from somnambulism," the doctor went on. "How long have you observed the symptoms?"
"About six months," answered Grace, steadily.
"Are the occurrences frequent?"
"Yes. Almost every night."
"Had you experienced any great shock, about the time these manifestations began?"
"Yes. My aunt, whom I loved very dearly, had died."
"Oh! And when you walk in your sleep, do you seem to see her?"