“I am glad to know you, Doctor Crossett,” said Lola, a little timidly, as he stepped away from her, now smiling merrily.
“So,” he replied heartily, as he looked around the room curiously. “So! this is one of your famous New York apartments?”
“No, Paul,” said Dr. Barnhelm, rather ruefully, “this is a flat.”
“But what is the difference?”
“About a hundred dollars a month.”
“But surely you are not poor, Martin, you, with your mind?”
“My dear Paul, it takes twenty-four hours a day to make a good living here in New York, and I could not spare the time.”
“I see,” exclaimed Dr. Crossett, as his keen eyes fell upon the complicated electrical apparatus on the table. “You had a better use for it.” He crossed and bent over the affair with deep professional interest.
“So? A high frequency, a most peculiar and most powerful interrupter. Not for the X-ray? No, then for what?”
“I am going to tell you all about it. There is no man in America, and only one other in Europe, who could judge of it as you could judge. It is ten years’ work, Paul; it has meant poverty to both of us, but it is a big thing.”