Again he threw himself into all the daily interests of his life in order that he might think the more dispassionately of the circumstances of this strange case.

In truth it was not now entirely out of curiosity that he was tempted to think of it; his sympathy had been stirred by the courage and sorrow of the woman whom he had so idly accosted on that bright autumn day only a few weeks before.

She had appealed to him because he had knowledge.

Was all his knowledge, then, powerless to help her?
He believed that the shadowy appearance which dogged her footsteps could only be some projection of mind, whether or not its cause was the strong will of the paralytic transcending the ordinary limits of time and space, he could not tell.

Certainly no discussion as to its nature and origin could in any way aid its victim, and he could only fall back upon the comfort material kindness and sympathy could give.