"I saw him looking after you in the station," Mary explained. "He just—glared."
"I see." Professor Fish was always rather extravagant in manner and speech; his relief now seemed a little exaggerated. He drew a deep breath and glanced past Mary to the patient on his chair at the far end of the room. "Yes," he said, "at such times he is distinctly resentful. I don't wonder you noticed it."
"Your letter didn't mention his name," said Mary.
"I should call him Smith," answered the Professor.
"It's a good name. And that, I think, is all there is to tell. Oh, by the way, though he has no suicidal tendency, of course, or I shouldn't put him here; but all the same——"
Mary nodded. "Quite so," she said. "No razor."
"Exactly," said the Professor. "And no money. Give him the things he needs, and let me have the bill."
He rose and reached for his hat.
"But you will stay and have something to eat," protested old Dr.
Pond.
"Can't," answered the Professor. "Got an engagement in town. I've just time to catch the train back. Now, you quite understand about this case? Just quietness and soothing companionship, you know, fresh air and sleep, and all that."