family physician to the Duke's brother in Ireland. I knew
the family pretty well.

SMITH. [_Quietly._] I suppose you mean you knew something odd about the
family?

DOCTOR. Well, they saw fairies and things of that sort.

SMITH. And I suppose, to the medical mind, seeing fairies means much the
same as seeing snakes?

DOCTOR. [_With a sour smile._] Well, they saw them in Ireland. I suppose
it's quite correct to see fairies in Ireland. It's like gambling at
Monte Carlo. It's quite respectable. But I do draw the line at their
seeing fairies in England. I do object to their bringing their ghosts
and goblins and witches into the poor Duke's own back garden and within
a yard of my own red lamp. It shows a lack of tact.

SMITH. But I do understand that the Duke's nephew and niece see witches
and fairies between here and your lamp.

[_He walks to the garden window and looks out._

DOCTOR. Well, the nephew has been in America. It stands to reason you
can't see fairies in America. But there is this sort of superstition in
the family, and I am not easy in my mind about the girl.

SMITH. Why, what does she do?

DOCTOR. Oh, she wanders about the park and the woods in the evenings.
Damp evenings for choice. She calls it the Celtic twilight. I've no use
for the Celtic twilight myself. It has a tendency to get on the chest.
But what is worse, she is always talking about meeting somebody, some
elf or wizard or something. I don't like it at all.

SMITH. Have you told the Duke?

DOCTOR. [_With a grim smile._] Oh, yes, I told the Duke. The result was
the conjurer.

SMITH. [_With amazement._] The _conjurer_?

DOCTOR. [_Puts down his cigar in the ash-tray._] The Duke is
indescribable. He will be here presently, and you shall judge for
yourself. Put two or three facts or ideas before him, and the thing he
makes out of them is always something that seems to have nothing to do
with it. Tell any other human being about a girl dreaming of the fairies
and her practical brother from America, and he would settle it in some
obvious way and satisfy some one: send her to America or let her have
her fairies in Ireland. Now the Duke thinks a conjurer would just meet
the case. I suppose he vaguely thinks it would brighten things up, and
somehow satisfy the believers' interest in supernatural things and the
unbelievers' interest in smart things. As a matter of fact the
unbeliever thinks the conjurer's a fraud, and the believer thinks he