“But, unfortunately, intangible!” said Gervase, satirically.
The Doctor looked at him keenly and coldly.
“Do not be too sure of that, my friend! Never talk about what you do not understand; you only wander astray. The spiritual world is a blank to you, so do not presume to judge of what you will never realize till realization is forced upon you!”
He uttered the last words with slow and singular emphasis.
“Forced upon me?” began Gervase. “What do you mean? …”
He broke off abruptly, for at that moment Denzil Murray emerged from the doorway of the hotel, and came towards them with an unsteady, swaying step like that of a drunken man.
“You had better go in to the Princess,” he said, staring at Gervase with a wild smile; “she is waiting for you!”
“What’s the matter with you, Denzil?” inquired Dr. Dean, catching him by the arm as he made a movement to go on and pass them.
Denzil stopped, frowning impatiently.
“Matter? Nothing! What should be the matter?”