From the time he first lost his reason he remembered nothing. A month later he was in Chicago visiting his friend, the Russian, and from there he went to his home in Canada, where no one ever expected to see him again, except Marie Louise, his first love, who said that she always felt that he would come back.
"Tell me of your life," she asked him.
"It would do you no good," he said, and never told her; but he often asked her to sing, "Rendez-moi ma patrie."