"Suppose I tell you that the Herr Doctor is engaged in a dangerous conspiracy," said Beale, "and that you yourself are running a considerable risk by assisting him?"
The big hands were outspread in despair.
"The Herr Doctor has many enemies," mumbled Heyler. "I can tell you nothing, Herr Peale."
"Tell me this," said Beale: "is there any place you know of where the doctor may have taken a lady—the young lady into whose room you went the night I found you?"
"A young lady?" The old man was obviously surprised. "No, no, Herr Peale, there is no place where a young lady could go. Ach! No!"
"Well," said Beale, after a pause, "I guess I can do no more with you, professor." He glanced round at the cretonne recess: "I won't inconvenience you any longer, Mr. Homo."
The curtains were pushed aside and the æsthetic-looking man stepped out, the half-smile on his thin lips.
"I fear you have had a disappointing visit," he said pleasantly, "and it is on the tip of your tongue to ask me if I can help you. I will save you the trouble of asking—I can't."
Beale laughed.