“Thank you so much, Mr. Francis.... Then that is the kind of outline?”
“Well, yes; so far as one can put it in a few words.”
“Thank you.... I mustn’t keep you.”
He went with her towards the door. But within a yard of it she stopped.
“And you, Mr. Francis. You were brought up in all this. Does it ever come back to you?”
He smiled.
“Never,” he said, “except as a dream.”
“How do you account for that, then? If it is all self-suggestion, you have had thirty years of it.”
She paused; and for a moment he hesitated what to answer.
“How would your old fellow-Catholics account for it?”