“Can you give me his address?”
The chemist wrote the address on a sheet of paper and handed it to the young woman.
“Do you happen to know whether Professor Seigfried or his assistants have been called in during this investigation?”
“What investigation, madame?”
“The investigation of the recent terrible explosion.”
“I have heard of no explosion,” replied the chemist, evidently bewildered.
Then Jennie remembered that, while the particulars of the disaster in the Treasury were known to the world at large outside of Austria, no knowledge of the catastrophe had got abroad in Vienna.
“The Professor,” continued the chemist, noticing Jennie’s hesitation, “is not a very practical man. He is deeply learned, and has made some great discoveries in pure science, but he has done little towards applying his knowledge to any everyday useful purpose. If you meet him, you will find him a dreamer and a theorist. But if you once succeed in interesting him in any matter, he will prosecute it to the very end, quite regardless of the time he spends or the calls of duty elsewhere.”
“Then he is just the man I wish to see,” said Jennie decisively, and with that they took leave of the chemist and once more entered the carriage.
“I want to drive to another place,” said Jennie, “before it gets too late.”