My bewildered eyes wandered from a trim little white cap to a spotless white dress and shoes, White canvas shoes!
“Where are her pretty gilded sandals?” thought I.
I tried to speak to her. I even made an effort to catch the soothing hand at my forehead.
At this the white figure vanished, and in its place, stood Braintree, the Seaforth’s doctor.
“Great Scott, I have it. I am in the hospital! That was Susan....”
“That’s just where you are, Steven. And I must ask you not to excite yourself about it. Here you are and here you have been for some time. Tribe, Dunn and I have slaved over you and won out, at last.
“But who, may I ask, is Menna! No friend of yours, I’d swear! Susan is equally interested in some lady friend of your acquaintance, Sesen I think her name was! Well, never mind that now. Turn over and rest.”
Then it was a dream; the vision of a fevered brain! Enana, Hanit, Sesen, Menna, and Renny—could I have been Renny—all were dreams! Hanit! Why such a person never existed. And Ramses! As yet he wasn’t born!
I tried to smile at the busy little figure in white. I recognized her now. It was Susan Braintree, my Susan!
I caught myself repeatedly murmuring: “Susan the Lily, Sesen the Lotus, one and the same name, one and the same person perhaps. Ah, my Beautiful Princess! I can smell the sweet unguents which Bhanar has sprinkled upon your dainty Wig, the myrrh upon your supple hands...!”
Susan presses a little phial to my nostrils. A few short breaths and—I sleep.
