Winterfield with you?"
This last request it was out of my power--really out of my power--to
grant. Winterfield had left London that morning on his visit to Paris.
His address there was, thus far, not known to me.
"Well, you must represent your friend," the doctor said. "Time is
every way of importance in this case. Will you kindly call here at five
to-morrow afternoon?"
I was punctual to my appointment. We drove together to the asylum.
There is no need for me to trouble you with a narrative of what I
saw--favored by Doctor Wybrow's introduction--at the French boy's
bedside. It was simply a repetition of what I had already heard. There
he lay, at the height of the fever, asking, in the intervals of relief,
intelligent questions relating to the medicines administered to him; and
perfectly understanding the answers. He was only irritable when we asked
him to take his memory back to the time before his illness; and then he
answered in French, "I haven't got a memory."
But I have something else to tell you, which is deserving of your
best attention.
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