e a sudden silence in the room. I hadn't realized
that I'd been talking so loudly or so vehemently.

The Duke broke it by saying: "Look here, Royall; I'm going to stay on
here until I've learned all about every phase of this thing. It may
sound a bit conceited, but I'm going to try to learn in a few weeks
everything you have learned in a year. So you'll have to teach me, if
you will. And then I'd like to borrow one or two of your therapists,
your hexperts, to teach the technique in England.

"Allowing people like that to kill and maim when it can be prevented
is unthinkable in a civilized society. I've got to learn how to stop
it in England. Will you teach me?"

"On one condition," I said.

"What's that?"

"That you teach me how to use a walking stick."

He laughed. "You're on!"

The officer stuck his head in the waiting room again. "Pardon me.
Inspector Acrington? The District Attorney would like to see you."

"Surely."

After he had left, I sat there for a minute or two, just thinking.
Then Brownlee came back from his conference with the D.A. and sat
down beside me.

"I met your noble friend heading for the D.A.'s office," he said with
a smile. "He said that any man who was as determined to find a better
method in order to replace a merely workable method is a remarkable
man and therefore worth studying under. I just told him I agreed with
him."

"Thanks," I said. "Thanks a lot."

Because Brownlee knows why I'm looking for a cure to replace the
stopgap. Brownlee knows why I gave up smoking three years ago, why I
don't have any matches or lighters in the house, why I keep the
ashtrays for guests only, and why, for that reason, I don't have many
guests. Brownlee knows why there are only electric stoves in my
apartment--never gas.

Brownlee knows why my son quivers and turns his head away from a match
flame. Brownlee knows why he had to put the _geas_ on Stevie.

And I even think Brownlee suspects that I concealed some of the
evidence in the fire that killed Stevie's mother--my wife.

Yes, I'm looking for a cure. But until then, I'll be thankful for the
stopgap.

* * * * *

End of Project Gutenberg's Nor Iron Bars a Cage...., by Gordon Randall Garrett

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOR IRON BARS A CAGE.... ***

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