emed a little exaggerated. He drew a deep
breath and glanced past Mary to the patient on his chair at the far
end of the room. "Yes," he said, "at such times he is distinctly
resentful. I don't wonder you noticed it."

"Your letter didn't mention his name," said Mary.

"I should call him Smith," answered the Professor.

"It's a good name. And that, I think, is all there is to tell. Oh, by
the way, though he has no suicidal tendency, of course, or I
shouldn't put him here; but all the same----"

Mary nodded. "Quite so," she said. "No razor."

"Exactly," said the Professor. "And no money. Give him the things he
needs, and let me have the bill."

He rose and reached for his hat.

"But you will stay and have something to eat," protested old Dr.
Pond.

"Can't," answered the Professor. "Got an engagement in town. I've
just time to catch the train back. Now, you quite understand about
this case? Just quietness and soothing companionship, you know, fresh
air and sleep, and all that."

"We quite understand," said Mary. "We'll do our best."

"I'm sure you will," said Professor Fish cordially. He moved over to
where the patient sat; he had not moved at all. He continued to gaze
at the carpet while the tall Professor stood over him.

"Now, Smith," said the Professor in his loud voice, "I'm off. You're
in good hands here, you know. You've only to take it easy and rest."

"Rest?" Smith repeated the word in a hoarse whisper; it was the
first he had spoken. He looked up, and his eye went to the
Professor's face with a sort of challenge.

"Yes," said the Professor. "Good-bye."

Smith continued to look at him, but answered nothing. Professor Fish
shrugged his shoulders and turned away sharply.

"He'll soon pick up," he said to Dr. Pond. "And now I really must
go."

He shook hands with Mary with a manner of cheerful vigour, beaming at
her through his gold-rimmed glasses, big, whimsical, and quick. A
moment later, Dr. Pond was showing him out, and Mary, alone with her
patient, had another glimpse of hate and contempt animating and
enlivening that weak and formless face.

She waited till she heard the front door close and the Professor's
departing feet crunch on the gravel of the garden path. Then she went
and put a hand on the little man's shoulder.

"You look very tired," she said, quietly, in her level, pleasant
voice. "Would you like to go to your room and lie down? And I will
send you up some tea."

There was