"That was Latin? I thought so. But you spoke too fast; and I'm not accustomed to speak it."
The old man looked at him with grave humour. "Not accustomed to speak it, Monsignor! Why——" (He broke off again.) "Look out of the window, please. Where are we?"
The other looked out. (He felt greatly elated and comforted. It was quite true; his memory was not altogether gone then. Surely he would soon be well again!) Out of the windows in front, but seeming to wheel swiftly to the left as the car whisked round to the right, was the Victoria Tower. He noticed that the hour pointed to five minutes before one.
"Those are the Houses of Parliament," he said. "And what's that tall pillar in the middle of Parliament Square?"
"That's the image of the Immaculate Conception. But what did you call those buildings just now?"
"Houses of Parliament, aren't they?" faltered the man, terrified that his brain was really going.
"Why do you call them that?"
"It is their name, isn't it?"
"It used to be; but it isn't the usual name now."
"Good God! Father, am I mad? Tell me. What year is it?"