Jack screwed down the clamps of his self-control. "No," he said.
"Take Mr. Garrod back to your tent, then, Jean Paul," Sir Bryson said graciously. "Tend him well, and we will all be grateful."
Before any move was made the company was electrified by a new voice: "May I speak if you please, Sir Bryson?" They turned to see Mary Cranston standing within the door, resolute in her confusion.
Linda half rose with an exclamation. At the touch of Kate's hand she sank back, twisting her handkerchief into a rag, her lips trembling, her pained eyes darting from Mary's face to Jack's and back again.
Sir Bryson sneered. "Eavesdropping?" he said.
"I was listening," said Mary firmly. "It is good that I was. You are all blind!"
"Indeed!" said Sir Bryson jocularly, looking all around to share the joke. "Is it possible?"
Nobody laughed, however. Mary was not put out by his sneers. She pointed at Garrod. "He doesn't know what he's saying," she said. "His lips are speaking at the command of another mind! It is hypnotism! If you don't believe, look at him!"
The seven faces turned toward Garrod with a simultaneous start. Jean Paul's astonishment was admirably done.
"See by his eyes, his voice, the whole look of him!" Mary went on. "He doesn't even hear what I am saying now!"