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have their explanations for such matters. If a man would rather his wife was dead than unfaithful, he can manage to make himself believe that she is dead—even that he has killed her.'
    Warily, Giles and Gwenda exchanged a warning glance.
    Giles said quietly, 'So you are quite sure that there was no question of his having actually done what he said he had done?'
    'Oh, quite sure. I had two letters from Helen. The first one from France about a week after she went away and one about six months later. Oh no, the whole thing was a delusion pure and simple.'
    Gwenda drew a deep breath.
    'Please,' she said. 'Will you tell me all about it?'
    'I'll tell you everything I can, my dear. To begin with, Kelvin had been in a rather peculiar neurotic state for some time. He came to me about it. Said he had had various disquieting dreams. These dreams, he said, were always the same, and they ended in the same way— with his throttling Helen. I tried to get at the root of the trouble—there must, I think, have been some conflict in early childhood. His father and mother, apparently, were not a happy couple... Well, I won't go into all that. That's only interesting to a medical man. I actually suggested that Kelvin should consult a psychiatrist, there are several first-class chaps—but he wouldn't hear of it—thought that kind of thing was all nonsense.'
    'I had an idea that he and Helen weren't getting along too well, but he never spoke about that, and I didn't like to ask questions. The whole thing came to a head when he walked into my house one evening—it was a Friday, I remember, I'd just come back from the hospital and found him waiting for me in the consulting room; he'd been there about a quarter of an hour. As soon as I came in, he looked up and said, “I've killed Helen.”'
    'For a moment I didn't know what to think. He was so cool and matter of fact. I said, “You mean—you've had another dream?” He said, “It isn't a dream this time. It's true. She's lying there strangled. I strangled her.”'
    'Then he said—quite coolly and reasonably: “You'd better come back with me to the house. Then you can ring up the police from there.” I didn't know what to think. I got out the car again, and we drove along here. The house was quiet and dark. We went up to the bedroom—'
    Gwenda broke in, 'The bedroom?' Her voice held pure astonishment. Dr Kennedy looked faintly surprised.
    'Yes, yes, that's where it all happened. Well, of course when we got up there—there was nothing at all! No dead woman lying across the bed. Nothing disturbed—the coverlets not even rumpled. The whole thing had been an hallucination.'
    'But what did my father say?'
    'Oh, he persisted in his story, of course. He really believed it, you see. I persuaded him to let me give him a sedative and I put him to bed in the dressing-room. Then I had a good look round. I found a note that Helen had left crumpled up in the wastepaper basket in the drawing-room. It was quite clear. She had written something like this: “This is Goodbye. I'm sorry—but our marriage has been a mistake from the beginning. I'm going away with the only man I've ever loved. Forgive me if you can. Helen.”'
    'Evidently Kelvin had come in, read her note, gone upstairs, had a kind of emotional brainstorm and had then come over to me persuaded that he had killed Helen.'
    'Then I questioned the housemaid. It was her evening out and she had come in late. I took her into Helen's room and she went through Helen's clothes, etc. It was all quite clear. Helen had packed a suitcase and a bag and had taken them away with her. I searched the house, but there was no trace of anything unusual—certainly no sign of a strangled woman.'
    'I had a very difficult time with Kelvin in the morning, but he realized at last that it was a delusion—or at least he said he did, and he consented to go into a nursing home for treatment.'
    'A week later I got, as I say, a letter from Helen. It was posted from