"Come, come," said somebody behind us, "enough of the dramatics."
It was Kennedy, who had been bending down, listening to the muttering of the old man.
"Look at those eyes of Mr. Haswell," he said. "What colour are they?"
We looked. They were blue.
"Down in the parlour," continued Kennedy leisurely, "you will find a portrait of the long deceased Mrs. Haswell. If you will examine that painting you will see that her eyes are also a peculiarly limpid blue. o couple with blue eyes ever had a black-eyed child. At least, if this is such a case, the Carnegie Institution investigators would be glad to hear of it, for it is contrary to all that they have discovered on the subject after years of study of eugenics. Dark-eyed couples may have light-eyed children, but the reverse, never. What do you say to that, madame?"
"You lie," screamed the woman, rushing frantically past us. "I am his daughter. No interlopers shall separate us. Father!"
The old man moved feebly away from her.
"Send for Dr. Scott again," she demanded. "See if he cannot be found. He must be found. You are all enemies, villains."
She addressed Kennedy, but included the whole room in her denunciation.
"Not all," broke in Kennedy remorselessly. "Yes, madame, send for
Dr. Scott. Why is he not here?"