"I had another visit from him yesterday."
"What did he want this time?"
"He had a list of words—more of his science. I can't refuse to do what he asks—and yet—I'm afraid. You know these scientists know so many things that aren't so about women."
Kennedy nodded over at me. I knew what was passing in his mind. It was surely strange to hear oneself discussed and I recalled the old adage about eavesdroppers hearing nothing good of themselves. Besides, I knew that his Freud theory had struck home. Honora's very anger at the theory was proof enough that it struck home in one of her own "complexes."
"Confound him!" muttered Shattuck. "I suppose you are right, though. You know this ordeal bean from the Calabar? Of course you remember the derivative from your father's place—the physostigmine. Well, the beans are used in a queer, primitive sort of dueling by the natives. They cut the beans in half. Each eats a half. It is a sort of a duel by ordeal."
"Yes," she answered, quickly. "So I've been told."
Kennedy nodded to me.
Neither of them said more about it. Was it because they recognized it as a dangerous subject? Or had Honora really discovered the dictagraph in her own home? In that case, this very conversation was being held for our benefit, out of sheer bravado.
Nothing more of importance was said and we figuratively followed them out into the hall and over a good-by that was considerably lengthened by Shattuck and threatened to become sentimental. Only Honora restrained it.
"What next?" I asked, as we could hear the slam of the door in the Wilford apartment.