"You say you do not know me," I began. "Let me see,"—narrowing my eyes as one does who attempts to recall a dim and shadowy past. "Didn't you wear your hair in two plaits down your back?"
"That is regular; it is still the custom; it proves nothing."
"Let me recall a rambling old garret where we used to hold shows."
Her fan opened again, and the tendrils at her temples moved gently.
"Once we played the Sleeping Beauty, and you said that I should always be Prince Charming. How easily we forget!"
She inclined forward a bit. There were signs of reviving interest. She began to scrutinize me; hitherto she had surveyed and examined me.
"Once—"
"Say 'Once upon a time'; all fairy stories begin that way."
"Thank you; I stand corrected. Well, once upon a time you fell down these same garret stairs; and if you will lift that beautiful lock of hair from your right temple I shall see a scar. I am sure of your identity."