proved a fund of information. When they had exhausted the scenery they
conversed on other topics. Soon she knew everything there was to know
about him and Isobel, whom it was evident she could not understand.

"Tell me," she said, looking at his dark and rather unusual eyes, "do
you ever have dreams, Godfrey?" for now she called him by his
Christian name.

"Not at night, when I sleep very soundly, except after that poor
cabman was killed. I have seen lots of dead people, because my father
always takes me to look at them in the parish, to remind me of my own
latter end, as he says, but they never made me dream before."

"Then do you have them at all?"

He hesitated a little.

"Sometimes, at least visions of a sort, when I am walking alone,
especially in the evening, or wondering about things. But always when
I am alone."

"What are they?" she asked eagerly.

"I can't quite explain," he replied in a slow voice. "They come and
they go, and I forget them, because they fade out, just like a dream
does, you know."

"You must remember something; try to tell me about them."

"Well, I seem to be among a great many people whom I have never met.