"I am human," I observed.
"I want you to forget it. Will you, Dr. Pinsent?"
"On the spot."
"That is good of you." Her tone was crisp with disappointment. "You are indeed a friend."
"But not in need a friend, eh? Come, come, Miss Ottley, you are in trouble. I am strong and trustworthy and capable. There are times when a man may tell the truth about himself, and this, I think, is one of them. Can I help you?"
"No one can help me," she said sadly, "you least of all."
"And why least of all?"
"Because you hate my father."
"Is he in trouble, too?"
"He is the willing but unwitting victim of a wicked, wicked man—but, oh, what am I saying? Dr. Pinsent, please, please let us talk of something else."