The Tracer, apparently engrossed in his own story, went on with it.

"Three years ago the young girl who wrote this inscription upon the window pane of her--her bedroom, I think it was--fell in love.

Do you follow me, Miss Inwood ?" Miss Inwood sat very still--wide, dark eyes fixed on him.
"Fell in love," repeated the Tracer musingly, "not in the ordinary way.
That is the point, you see.

No, she fell in love at first sight; fell in love with a young man whom she never before had seen, never again beheld--and never forgot.

Do you still follow me, Miss Inwood ?" She made the slightest motion with her lips.
"No," mused the Tracer of Lost Persons, "she never forgot him.