“Shall I accompany you, gentlemen?” asked Vogotzine.
“Certainly, General!”
“You see, I don’t like lunatics; they produce a singular effect upon me; they don’t interest me at all. But still, after all, she is my niece!”
And he gave a sharp pull to his frock-coat, as he would have tightened his belt before an assault.
They descended a short flight of steps, and found themselves in a large garden, with trees a century old, beneath which were several men and women walking about or sitting in chairs.
A large, new building, one story high, appeared at one end of the garden; in this were the dormitories of Dr. Sims’s patients.
“Are those people insane?” asked Zilah, pointing to the peaceful groups.
“Yes,” said Dr. Sims; “it requires a stretch of the imagination to believe it, does it not? You can speak to them as we pass by. All these here are harmless.”
“Shall we cross the garden?”
“Our invalid is below there, in another garden, behind that house.”