“Yes. Self-hypnosis. What you see is not there.”
Betty turned at this moment so that her face was toward us.
“What do you see back there, Brack?” I asked.
He looked at her steadily; his head was lowered a little, and again there was in his eyes the look comparable to Garvin’s when he saw the raw gold.
“I see,” said he slowly, without taking his eyes off Betty, “just what there is there; a very fine, healthy young specimen of the female of the species.”
His words were like a dull knife on my nerves, but I controlled myself.
“Nothing more?” I asked casually.
“No. For there is no more.”
I laughed, and I was conscious of a sensation of relief. The man had his limitations then, even though one glance from his eyes had left so strong an impression on Miss Baldwin.
“I feel sorry for you then,” said I. “You are to be pitied for your lack of imagination.”