The old priest drew out a key and unlocked the door before them; and together they turned to the left up the corridor, and passed into a large, pleasant room looking out on to the street, with a further door communicating, it seemed, with a bedroom beyond.

Fortunately they had met no one on the way.
"Here we are," said Father Jervis cheerfully.

"Now, Monsignor, do you know where you are ?" The other shook his head dolorously.
"Come, come; this is your own room.

Look at your writing-table, Monsignor; where you sit every day." The other looked at it eagerly and yet vaguely.

A half-written letter, certainly in his own handwriting, lay there on the blotting-pad, but the name of his correspondent meant nothing to him; nor did the few words which he read.