"Oh yes, he would, if he thought I was hurting the institution. See what they did to poor little Combes, who mildly claimed to be able to hypnotize people."
"Yes, but he made himself ridiculous in the papers."
"You mean the papers made him ridiculous. Couldn't they do the same with Weissmann and me? Think of a big, sprawling, sketchy drawing in the Blast, with Weissmann glaring at a strangely beautiful young lady in scanty gown—his hands spread like claws upon the table, while another younger man (myself) catches at a horn floating overhead. Oh yes, there are great possibilities in to-night's entertainment. May I ask you, Mrs. Rice, to be more than usually circumspect?"
"You may, Dr. Serviss."
He rose gravely. "Very good. Now I think you would better go to bed."
"I wish your Mr. Lambert would come."
"So do I. I'm afraid he is going to ignore my summons. Unless I hear from him to-morrow I shall consider him craven or indifferent."
"What will you do then?"
His brows contracted into a frown. "I don't know. She should be freed from Clarke's immediate influence, but I don't see how I can interfere."
"I can't believe that she really cares for him; in fact, from things she said to-night, I think she fears him. He was furiously jealous of you, I could see that. And I must say you gave him cause."