". . . . By means of my astral body, I have seen Mr. Adrian Lancaster, who is at Monte Carlo . . . . a handsome face certainly, but no brains, and if he has any, he never uses them . . he seems to me to lead a debauched life—ah, the pity that such a soiled soul should seek union with the stainless, spiritual part of Olive Maunders. It will be like fire and water coming together, and the mastery will be with the strongest.
". . . . I have tried again and failed, her material part is stronger than her spiritual one, and she has set her heart upon marriage with Adrian Lancaster, so there is nothing left for me to do, but to retire peacefully from the field . . . . I should like to teach her a lesson, and show her what she has lost in refusing to marry me . . . well, time will show, and I may some day, have an opportunity of doing so . . . ."
There were several other entries about Olive and himself, but Adrian had read enough, and closing the book with a frown, locked it up again in the desk. It was clear Dr. Roversmire had not held a very good opinion of him, and Adrian could not help acknowledging to himself that the view taken by the savant was a correct one. He had brains in plenty, but had never exercised them—never mind, there was yet time. The experiences he had undergone, while in the body of Roversmire, had not been without a salutary effect, and he would benefit by them, when he returned to his own body. But when would he return? Ah! that was the question; at all events, he would go down to Olive Maunders, and find out from her demeanour towards him, if she really was true to Adrian Lancaster, or if her ambition had caused her to look kindly upon Michael Roversmire. The entries in the book were plain enough—she did not love anyone else but himself, still the demon of jealousy was gnawing at Adrian's heart, and only a personal interview could satisfy him on the subject.
He rang the bell, and Dentham appeared with such rapidity that Adrian felt convinced he had not been far away. However, listen as he might, he could not learn anything likely to endanger the safety of Dr. Roversmire, so Adrian asked at once for what he wanted.
"Have you a Bradshaw?"
"Yes, sir," replied Dentham, and thereupon vanished, quickly returning with the book in question.
Adrian took it, and Dentham was about to retire when his master called him back.
"Wait a moment, I may want you," he said, without raising his eyes from the Guide, whereupon Dentham wondered greatly what could have occurred to alter so suddenly the general habits of the old doctor.
Adrian soon found out that there was a train late in the afternoon to Great Marlow, and laying down the book open on the table, rose to his feet.
"I am going to my room, Dentham," he said abruptly. "You can come in shortly to pack my portmanteau—I shall be going away for a few days."