As for me I have no opinion.

I am waiting to see what will happen." They had reached the old print shop; and, as they paused beneath the cedars in the front yard, Stephen glanced up at the window under the quaint shingled roof.

The upper storey, he knew, was rented to a couple of tenants, and he was not surprised when he saw the curtains of dotted swiss pushed aside and a woman's face look down on him over the red geranium on the window-sill.

The face was familiar; but, while he stared back at it, searching his memory for a resemblance, the white curtains dropped together again, veiling the features.

Where had he seen that woman before?
What association of ideas did the sight of her recall?
In a flash, while he still groped through mental obscurity, light broke on him.
"Who is that woman, Corinna ?" he asked.