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with him to me. " Bennet leaned sideways, his elbow on the back of his chair. "He is worrying about a woman with whom he is obviously deeply in love, that's all. " He paused. "He also is, I think, a deep trance subject himself. I should like the chance to regress him. I sense a soul much troubled through the ages. I should hazard a guess that you think so too. "

Sam's hand, lying on the table near his glass, had closed into a fist. "I am not sure I share your belief in reincarnation, Dr. Bennet. "

"That surprises me. " Bennet smiled faintly. "I pride myself in having a nose for these things, and I should say you have reason to believe you have much in common with your brother. "

"Possibly. " Sam gave him a cold glance. "If I were to persuade him to bring Jo to you again, will you assemble your experts? But no more suggestions that she forget Matilda. She has to follow the story through. "

Bennet frowned. "Has to?"

"Oh, yes, she has to. " Sam stood up. He held out his hand. "It's been very interesting meeting you, Dr. Bennet. I'll be in touch when Jo and Nick return to London.... " He gave a small bow and turned away, walking slowly back along the table toward his original seat.

Bennet watched him as he went, a preoccupied frown on his face. There was something about Dr. Sam Franklyn that disturbed him greatly.

Jo and Nick arrived in Carl Bennet's consulting room the following Tuesday. Besides Carl and Sam there were three strangers present.

Bennet took Jo's hand when she came in. "Let me introduce you to my colleagues, my dear. This is Stephen Thomson, a consulting physician at Barts. He is something of an expert on stigmata and other phenomena of that kind. " He gave her an impudent grin. "And this is Jim Paxman, a medieval historian who knows a great deal about Wales, and this is Dr. Wendy Marshall, who is an expert on Celtic languages. She is going to try to interpret some of the Welsh words and phrases you come up with from time to time. She will know at once if they are real—and from the right period. "

Jo swallowed. "Quite a barrage of experts to try to trip me up. "

Bennet frowned. "If you object, I shall ask them all to leave, Jo. " He was watching her anxiously. "I don't mean this to be an inquisition. "

"No. " Jo sat down resolutely. "No, if I'm a fake, no one wants to know it more than I do. " She gave Sam a tight smile. He was seated unobtrusively in the corner of the room, watching the others. He had nodded to her briefly, then his gaze had gone beyond her, to Nick.

Bennet glanced at Sarah, ready by her tape recorder, then he smiled. Around them the others were arranging themselves, leaving Jo alone, seated in the center of the room. "Shall we begin?" he said gently. He sat down next to her.

Jo nodded. She sat back, her hands loosely clasped in her lap, her eyes on Bennet's face.

"Good, " he said after a moment. "You have learned to relax. That's fine. I heard you had been practicing. "

Every eye in the room was on him as gently he talked Jo back into her trance. Within seconds he was content. He looked over his shoulder at Sam. "The self-hypnosis we were discussing has made her easier to regress. She doesn't really need me, save as a control. " He straightened and looked at the others. "She is ready to be questioned. Who would like to have a go first? Dr. Marshall, what about you? Would you perhaps like to ask her something in Welsh? She has, as we all know, maintained that she has no knowledge at all of the language in this incarnation, and I suspect that would be very easy to prove one way or the other. Easier than questions of historical detail. "

Wendy Marshall nodded. She was a tall, slim woman in her early forties. Her hair, an attractive brown, was drawn back into a clip at the nape of her neck, to fall in undisciplined curls down her back. Its exuberance contrasted sharply with her severe expression and the puritanical simplicity of her linen dress. Picking up the clipboard that had been resting on her knee, she stood up and walked toward Jo.

"Nawr te, arglwyddes Mailt. " She launched at once into a torrent of words. "Fe faswn i'n hoffi gofyn ichwiychydig cwes-tiynau, os ca i... I have told her that I'm going to ask her some questions, " she said over her shoulder.

The silence in the room was electric. Nick found he was clenching his fists, as, like everyone else, he watched for Jo's reaction.

"A ydych chi'n fyn deall i? Pa rydw i'n dweud? Fyng arglwyddes?" Wendy went on after a moment.

There was a long pause. Jo gave no sign of having heard her. Her attention was fixed somewhere inside herself, far from the room in Devonshire Place. Wendy gave a shiver. She glanced at Bennet. "I just asked her if she understood me, " she said in an undertone. "She looks completely blank. I am afraid it looks as though she has been fooling you. "

Nick stood up abruptly. He walked toward the window and stared out, forcing himself to stay calm. Behind him, Sam's gaze followed him thoughtfully.

Nick spun around. "You think she's been lying?" he burst out. "You think the whole thing is a hoax? Some glorious charade we've all made up to amuse ourselves?"

"Nicholas, please. " Carl Bennet stood up. "I am sure Dr. Marshall is implying no such thing. " He turned to Jo. "Can you hear me, Lady Matilda?" His tone was suddenly peremptory.

Slowly Jo looked toward him. After a moment she nodded.

"You have told us that you speak the language of the hills, " he said

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