sorry for them," she said.

They sat silent for a long while.

At first his overwhelming desire was to tell her of the deception
practiced upon her; but he could not do that, because in exposing
himself he must fail in loyalty to the Tracer of Lost Persons. Besides,
she would not believe him. She would think him mad if he told her that
the old gentleman she had taken for Dr. Atwood was probably Mr. Keen,
the Tracer of Lost Persons. Also, he himself was not absolutely certain
about it. He had merely deduced as much.

"Tell me," he said very gently, "what is the malady from which you
believe I am suffering?"

For a moment she remained silent, then, face averted, laid her finger on
the book beside her.

"That," she said unsteadily.

He read aloud: "Lamour's Disease. A Treatise in sixteen volumes by Ero
S. Lamour, M.D., M.S., F.B.A., M.F.H."

"All that?" he asked guiltily.

"I don't know, Mr. Carden. Are you laughing at me? Do you not believe
me?" She had turned suddenly to confront him, surprising a humorous
glimmer in his eyes.

"I really do not believe I am seriously ill," he said, laughing in spite
of her grave eyes.

"Then perhaps you had better read a little about what Lamour describes
as the symptoms of this malady," she said sadly.

"Is it fatal?" he inquired.

"Ultimately. That is why I desire to spend my life in studying means to
combat it. That is why I desire you so earnestly to place yourself under
my observation and let me try."

"Tell me one thing," he said; "is it contagious? Is it infectious? No?
Then I don't mind your studying me all you wish, Dr. Hollis. You may
take my temperature every ten minutes if you care to. You may observe my
pulse every five minutes if you desire. Only please tell me how this is
to be accomplished; because, you see, I live in the Sherwood Studio
Building, and you live on Madison Avenue."

"I--I have a ward--a room--fitted up with every modern surgical
device--every improvement," she said. "It adjoins my office. _Would_ you
mind living there for a while--say for a week at first--until I can be
perfectly certain in my diagnosis?"

"Do you intend to put me to bed?" he asked, appalled.

"Oh, no! Only I wish to watch you carefully and note your symptoms from
moment to moment. I also desire to try the effects of certain medicines
on you--"

"What kind of medicines?" he asked uneasily.

"I cannot tell yet. Perhaps antitoxin; I don't know; perhaps formalin
later