Tibby walked forward with the free, upspringing step of perfect health and high spirits.
“Mr. Cramer, you have not answered my question. What is this power of hypnotic control?�
“You should know better than I, Miss Waring. So far as I understand it, it is the controlling of one person’s will and senses by another, the subject passively submitting to it. I cannot imagine your hypnotizing me, for I am naturally very positive myself. You might do so if I were off my guard. Neither have I your power over others. Why, is not clear to me.�
“I made you ask a question for me a couple of days ago,� Tibby confessed, laughing.
“When?� Mark looked surprised.
“It was when you and Mrs. McCleary were talking together, and I wanted to hear her tell about the planchette. So I told you to ask her—that is, willed you to. And immediately you turned around and said, ‘Well, how does Mr. McCleary get on with his planchette?’�
Mark laughed.
“I remember I was sorry for starting her off upon her hobby, and was provoked at myself for asking afterwards,� he said. “But here we are at Nathan’s. I’ll take you in and then I’ll leave you to entertain Lissa in your own way.�
They found her sitting listlessly by her low window, her hands folded in her lap, her sad, dark-rimmed eyes full of unshed tears.
“I have brought Miss Waring over to keep you company for a while,� Mark said brightly. “I think you’ll get along well together without me, so I’ll run back to Alice. How are you feeling? Better?�