When he returned to the dissecting table he saw that the color was returning to the girl's cheeks. He unfastened her, sat down on a stool and waited.
After a moment, Tabak's lids flickered. Her eyes opened; she gazed at him in sudden terror.
"Feel the Anolyn," he said.
She sat up. Her hand went hesitantly to the back of her slender neck. He saw the amazement spread over her face.
"It's gone! You—How? How did you do it?"
She slipped suddenly from the blood-stained dissecting table, seized his hand, held it to her forehead. She was half laughing, half crying.
"You are the Wanderer! Forgive me for ever doubting. I'll atone for my sacrilege." She was hysterical with relief and awe and hope. "I'll never question your will again, never fail in obedience—"
"Rubbish!"
Jupiter regarded her startled expression with satisfaction.
"You're temporarily overcome by surprise," he went on. "You haven't had a chance to think. I know you inside out—too well to believe I could fool you for very long. And," he added ruefully; "you know me the same way. There's the rub. But I need you—and you need me."