er of
the germ, Harden, is indeed miraculous."

"Do you think my inclination is due to the germ?"

"Beyond a doubt. You were the most over-conscientious man I ever knew
until this morning."

For some reason I found this observation very interesting. I wished to
discuss it, and I was about to reply when the door opened and my
housemaid announced that Dr. Symington-Tearle was in the hall and would
like an immediate interview.

"Shew him in," I said equably. Symington-Tearle usually had a most
irritating effect upon me, but at the moment I felt totally indifferent
to him. He entered in his customary manner, as if the whole of London
were feverishly awaiting him. I introduced Sarakoff, but
Symington-Tearle hardly noticed him.

"Harden," he exclaimed in his loud dominating tones, "I am convinced
that there is no such thing as this Blue Disease. I believe it all to be
a colossal plant. Some practical joker has introduced a chemical into
the water supply."

"Probably," I murmured, still thinking of Sarakoff's observation.

"I'm going to expose the whole thing in the evening papers; I examined a
case yesterday--a man called Wain--and was convinced there was nothing
wrong with him. He was really pigmented. And what is it but mere
pigmentation?" He passed his hand over his brow and frowned. "Yes, yes,"
he continued, "that's what it is--a colossal joke. We've all been taken
in by it--everyone except me." He sat down by the breakfast table
suddenly and once more passed his hand over his brow.

"What was I saying?" he asked.

Sarakoff and I were now watching him intently.

"That the Blue Disease was a joke," I said.

"Ah, yes--a joke." He looked up at Sarakoff and stared for a moment. "Do
you know," he said, "I believe it really is a joke."

An expression of intense solemnity came over his face, and he sat
motionless gazing in front of him with unblinking eyes. I crossed to
where he sat and peered at his face.

"I thought so," I remarked. "You've got it too."

"Got what?"

"The Blue Disease. I suppose you caught it from Wain, as we did." I
picked up one of his hands and pointed to the faintly-tinted
fingernails. Dr. Symington-Tearle stared at them with an air of such
child-like simplicity and gravity that Sarakoff and I broke into loud
laughter.

The humour of the situation passed with a peculiar suddenness and we
ceased laughing abruptly. I sat down at the table, and for some time the
three of us gazed at one