"Oh, she'll find that to-morrow, I expect!" He balanced himself on his toes and smoked complacently.
I might as well stop there, I knew, but at the risk of being impertinent I was bound to see what I could get out of him.
"Have you found any law governing these alternations?"
"Why, yes; I have good reason to believe they come in turn—first one and then the other."
I got up. I fancy he came as near to receiving a blow on the point of the chin that moment, as he ever did in his life. But I held myself in check.
"Of course, if you think that it's none of my business, I'll ask you no more questions," I said angrily.
"Oh, no! Oh, no!" He shook his head with a deprecatory wave. "Only sometimes it's easier to ask questions than to answer them. This is a common enough case, as you know, if you know anything about psychology. A mild form of mania; that's all."
"Do you mean to say that you consider it merely insanity?" I demanded.
"Oh, we're all insane, more or less," he pursued in his maddening, non-committal way. "Insanity is a relative term, you know. 'All the world is queer but thee and me, and even thee's a little queer,' as the old Quaker said."
I did my best to keep my temper. "It's very unfortunate, at all events."