“You think I’m crazy, eh! Well, I ain’t crazy! What for do I want to stop a young feller from falling in love with his sweetheart?... What for do I want to break up the companionship of old people?... What for do I want to keep all the little children out of the world?... You hear what I say, Stetman?”
The lawyer thought his client was insane. He came around the table, his face drawn.
“Who have you seen?” he said.
Arnbush was now in a fury of declamation.
“Neinsoul!” he shouted. “Ain’t I told you! ... Neinsoul! He called me up on the telephone after you left. An’ I went over to their laboratory on Park Avenue.”
“And Neinsoul was there?”
The lawyer’s voice was low, tense, amazed.
“Sure, he was there,” Arnbush roared. “Ain’t I told you!”
The lawyer made a single exclamation.
“Good God!” he said.