Following his gaze with signs and questions, she sought to draw from him some indication of familiar recollection of certain points of the map thus unrolled behind him.

But in vain.

She even pointed out the fateful shadow of the overhanging ledge on the road where she had picked him up--there was no response in his abstracted eyes.

She bit her lips; she was becoming irritated again.

Then it occurred to her that, instead of appealing to his hopeless memory, she had better trust to some unreflective automatic instinct independent of it, and she put the question a little forward: "When you leave us, where will you go from here ?" He stirred slightly, and turned towards her.