His hand shot out and he gripped Ronnie.
"Come here—you! D'ye hear me. I'll—"
Ronnie took the hand that grasped his collar and pried loose the fingers; he did this without apparent effort. The fingers had to release their hold or be broken. Then with a twist of his wrist he flung the hand away.
"Don't do that, please," he said calmly.
Steppe stood panting, grimacing—afraid. Merville felt the fear before he saw its evidence.
"How did you do that?" panted Steppe. It was the resentful curiosity of the beaten animal.
Ronnie opened his mouth and laughed long and joyously. He was, thought the doctor, like a boy conjuror who had mystified his elders and was enjoying the joke of it. Then, without warning, he became serious again and pressed a bell on his table.
"François, open the door—must you go, Bertram? I wanted to see you rather pressingly. Steppe can find his way home, can't you, Steppe? One can't imagine him getting lost—and he can ask a policeman."
"I'll settle with you later, Morelle. Come on, Merville."
The doctor vacillated.