"With you."
"No; with her. Merle, you must be very ill when you talk so irrationally and untruthfully. You, whom I believed to be the soul of honor and rectitude. Sleep awhile. I will return, and then you will tell me truthfully. Whom can I trust, if not Merle? Yet, he persists in telling me lies, and defies my suggestions for truth. This proves to me that I have yet much to learn of men's souls. I would have given much rather than have this occur, for I can never again feel the same degree of confidence in anything he may give me in the trance state. Heretofore I have always put implicit faith in any assertions he made, but I am grievously disappointed at this. Women are the source of all man's iniquity. She has made him this, and yet he tries to shield her. He was a good boy until her influence poisoned him. I will take him in his normal condition and teach him to avoid women. I will obliterate her memory even from his mind, for he is too good a boy to be ruined by a frivolous woman's fancy. Sleep sweetly till I bid you wake, Merle; I will go and see what ails Alice. It is strange she should also be affected at this time. A few more experiences like this, and I shall have good reason to believe that I have very little knowledge of the human mind and mechanism."
"Mrs. Millard, I have put Merle to sleep. He will waken calm and refreshed. I would like Alice to come here.—Ah! Here she is. Let me see what is troubling you."
"I do not feel ill, Professor. I am just nervous and weak."
"Shall I put you to sleep?"
"I wish you would."
"Mrs. Millard, I will see you before I go. Sleep, Alice. That is well."
"Poor Merle."
"Why Alice, what makes you say 'poor Merle?' He is sleeping quietly, and will awake refreshed and cheerful."
"Poor Merle! Poor Merle!"