can't help saying so--"

"I know it," she said soothingly; "these sentimental outbursts are part
of the disease--"

"Good Heavens! _Won't_ you try to believe me! There's nothing in the
world the matter with me except that I am--am--p-p-perfectly
f-f-fascinated--"

"You must struggle against it, Mr. Carden. That is only part of the--"

"It isn't! It isn't! It's you! It's your mere presence, your
personality, your charm, your beauty, your loveliness, your--"

"Mr. Carden, I beg of you! I--it is part of my duty to observe symptoms,
but--but you are making it very hard for me--very difficult--"

"I am only proving to you that it isn't Lamour's Disease which does
stunts with my pulses, my temperature, my color. I'm not morbid except
when I realize my deception. I'm not depressed except when I think how
far you are from me--how far above me--how far out of reach of such a
man as I am--how desperately I--I--"

"D-don't you think I had better administer a s-s-sedative, Mr. Carden?"
she said, distressed.

"I don't care. I'll take anything you give me--as long as _you_ give it
to me. I'll swallow pint after pint of pills! I'll fletcherize 'em! I'll
luxuriate in poison--anything--"

She was hastily running through the pages of the ninth volume to see
whether the symptoms of sentimental excitement ever turned into frenzy.

"What can you learn from that book?" he insisted, leaning forward to see
what she was reading. "Anyway, Dr. Lamour married his patient so early
in the game that all the symptoms disappeared. And I believe the trouble
with his patient was my trouble. She had every symptom of it until he
married her! She was in love with him, that is absolutely all!"

Rosalind Hollis raised her beautiful, incredulous eyes.

"What do you mean, Mr. Carden?"

"I mean that, in my opinion, there's no such disease as Lamour's
Disease. That young girl was in love with him. Then he married her at
last, and--presto!--all the symptoms vanished--the pulse, the
temperature, the fidgets, the blushes, the moods, the whole business!"

"W-what about the strangely curious manifestations of physical
beauty--superhuman symmetry, Mr. Carden?"

"Do you notice them in _me_?" he gasped.

"A--yes--in a m-modified measure--"

"In _me_?"

"Certainly!" she said firmly; but the slow glow suffusing her cheeks was
disconcerting her. Then his own face began to reflect the splendid color
in hers; their eyes met, dismayed.

"There are sixt