"So I think. The discovery was purely theoretic and brought no particular fame or money to Eldridge. It was, as he looked at it, and as the doctor himself looked at it, merely carrying common knowledge to a conclusion. Perhaps it was; but I never forgave Eldridge for depriving the old man of the little satisfaction of the final proof. It is indicative of the whole man. He lacks humanity, and therefore imagination."
"Still, I wish you wouldn't be quite so bitter when I'm around," pleaded
Helen, "though I love your feeling for dear old Doctor Schermerhorn."
"I wish you could arrange to get out of town for a little while," urged
Darrow. "Isn't there some one you can visit?"
"Do you mean there is danger?"
"There is the potentiality of danger," Darrow amended. "I am almost confident, if pure reason can be relied on, that when the time comes I can avert the danger."
"Almost—" said Helen.
"I may have missed one of the elements of the case—though I do not think so. I can be practically certain when I telephone a man I know—or see the morning papers."
"Telephone now, then. But why 'when the time comes'? Why not now?"
Darrow arose to go to the telephone. He shook his head.
"Let Eldridge do his best. He has always succeeded—triumphantly. Now he will fail, and he will fail in the most spectacular, the most public way possible."