onvulsed. "You can't do things
like that," he went on, addressing himself to Serviss. "In these
trances the nervous system is in a state of enormous tension. The
psychic must not be mishandled."
"I merely touched her arm," answered Serviss, quietly.
The mother answered: "The lightest touch is sufficient to convulse
her, professor. You should have asked permission of the 'control,'
then it would not have shocked her."
"I hope it has done no lasting harm." His voice, in spite of himself,
took on sympathy, though he believed the girl's shock to have been
grossly exaggerated for some reason of her own. "I thought I was
invited to make the test."
The mother's calm voice was thrilling as she said: "She's better now.
You may turn the light on full."
Viola was a most appealing figure as she bloomed from the dark, pure
and pale as a lily. She was dressed exquisitely in white, and seemed
older, more worldly wise, and more bewitching than when he had last
seen her; but with a feeling of profound contempt and bitterness
Serviss shrank from meeting her gaze. He slipped away into the hall
and out of the house--back into the cool, crisp air of the night,
ashamed of himself for having yielded again to the girl's disturbing
lure, burning with disappointment, and sad and grieving over the loss
of his last shred of respect for her.
"Britt was right," he exclaimed, drawing a deep breath as if to free
his lungs of the foul air of deceit. "They are all frauds together,"
and with this decision came a sense of relief as well as of loss.
[Illustration: "'WHAT DO YOU MEAN? DO YOU WANT TO KILL THE
PSYCHIC?'"]
VIII
KATE'S INTERROGATION
Kate, waiting impatiently in her turn, met him at the door. "Well, did
you see her? What did she say?" Her voice rose in excitement, for she
perceived unusual gravity in the lines of his face.
"Your 'far country' lies on the borders of hell," he replied, with
disconcerting succinctness. "Yes, I saw her--or, rather, the ruin of
her."
She recoiled before this tone. "What do you mean?"
He shook himself free of his coat. "She has descended swiftly. She now
lends herself to the shallowest, basest trickery."
"I don't believe it. What has happened to make you so bitter?"
"I will tell you presently," he replied, hanging up his hat with
aggravating deliberation. "But not here. Come to the library." He led
the way and she followed quite meekly, for she perceived in him
somethi
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