I know this lady very well. This lady came back from Paris after about almost a year. Maintained…or thought she maintained…she paid the rent for this apartment…with her own furniture. When she came back, it was empty…not a stick in the apartment. She investigated, and the maid had simply disappeared with all the furniture. The super knew nothing about it. The super thought she had the authority to do what she did by moving all the furniture out. So she went to a hotel, and it was in her hotel that I met her and explained to her what I would do. Seated in the hotel room, I would assume that I was in my own apartment with all my own furniture. But what she did, she sat in her own hotel room and assumed that she was surrounded by her own furniture and seated in her own chair, looking at the pictures of her children on the piano, and all the things that she would see were it true. And it happened in no time flat. I know that lady very, very well, so he doesn’t fail! She felt the furniture that the private detectives couldn’t find, the police department of New York City couldn’t find, no one could find. They went from borough to borough— there are five boroughs—and they went all over the boroughs investigating all of the great places where you’d store furniture, and no one had any inkling…no one. Yet, she did it in this simple manner when the police department and private agencies could not find that furniture. This lady, maybe about ten years prior to this time that I am talking about, had a little nervous breakdown, and she was confined. It was a violent state. In other words, they called her case a violent case. So when she went to the bank on Madison Avenue, when she came out of the bank, she turned left. As she came out of the bank, the bank had little bars in a door, and it reminded her of that state, and sort of disturbed her mind for one moment. Because, as she came through the door she was thinking of this bar that she had seen, which reminded her of her own confinement, and she turned south instead of turning north as she should have done to go home to her hotel room. As she got to the corner she discovered her mistake. At that very moment she saw this pair of very familiar ankles, and she knew that’s my maid…or the one who was my maid, and looking up slowly to her face there is the maid. The light luckily was against the maid’s crossing the street and she grabbed the maid. You know the story. They got into a cab, went off to the place where she had stored the furniture. She had stolen it and thought she would keep it there for a nice safe time, and then take it out either to sell it or use it.253 ¶38