treated there. And dies like Hortense. You see a doll for which, apparently, he has posed. Harriet goes
through the same routine. And dies like Hortense and Peters. Now what?"
Suddenly I felt rather old and tired. It is not precisely stimulating to see crumbling what one has long
believed to be a fairly well ordered world of recognized cause and effect. I said wearily:
"I don't know."
He arose, and patted my shoulder.
"Get some sleep. The nurse will call you if Ricori wakes. We'll get to the bottom of this thing."
"Even if we fall to it," I said, and smiled.
"Even if we have to fall to it," he repeated, and did not smile.
After Braile had gone I sat for long, thinking. Then, determined to dismiss my thoughts, I tried to read. I