“It was a kind of dream,” she declared. “Indeed, I think that I was in a sort of delirium and imagined it all, for when I recovered completely I found myself here, in my own room, with Nora at my side.”
“And where were you when you were taken ill?”
“In the house of a friend.”
“May I not know the name?” I inquired.
“It is a name with which you are not acquainted,” she assured me. “The house at which I was visiting was in Queen’s-gate Gardens.”
Queen’s-gate Gardens! Then she was telling the truth!
“And you have no knowledge of how you came to be back here in your cousin’s house?”
“None whatever. I tell you that I was entirely unconscious.”
“And you are certain that the symptoms on that day were the same as those which we all experienced last night? You felt frozen to death?”
“Yes,” she responded, lying back in her chair, sighing rather wearily and passing her hand across her aching brow.