"Do you know me now," she said at last, "which one I am ?" "The right one, I am sure of that." "But which ?" "I know now," Peter answered, "but I am certain that in the morning I shall not be able to remember." It was true as Peter had said that the next morning he was in as much doubt as ever about the princesses.

He thought he would go and have a look at them but forgot what he had come for once he had entered the spacious quiet of the Academy.

Warmed still from his contact of the night before he found the pictures sentient and friendly.

He found trails in them that led he knew now where, and painted waters that lapped the fore-shore of remembrance.
After an hour in which he had seen the meaning of the pictures emerge from the frontier of mysticism which he knew now for the reflection of his own unstable state, and proceed toward him by way of his intelligence, he heard the Princess say at his shoulder, at least he thought it might have been the Princess for the first word or two, until he turned and saw Miss Dassonville.

She was staring at the dim old canvases patched with saints, and her eyes were tender.
"They are not really saints, you know, they are only a sort of hieroglyphics that spell devotion.