Paris. In the end, they did not dare risk it. I overheard something that seemed to show that other people--friends--were looking for me. I learnt later that the nurse who had looked after me went to Paris, and consulted a specialist, representing herself to be me. He put her through some searching tests, and exposed her loss of memory to be fraudulent; but she had taken a note of his methods and reproduced them on me. I dare say I couldn't have deceived the specialist for a minute--a man who has made a lifelong study of a thing is unique--but I managed once again to hold my own with them. The fact that I'd not thought of myself as Jane Finn for so long made it easier. "One night I was whisked off to London at a moment's notice. They took me back to the house in Soho. Once I got away from the sanatorium I felt different--as though something in me that had been buried for a long time was waking up again. "They sent me in to wait on Mr. Beresford. (Of course I didn't know
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