hat with you I visit him this
morning? Or if that you are too occupy, I can go alone if it may be.
It is a new experience to me to find a lunatic who talk philosophy,
and reason so sound."

I had some work to do which pressed, so I told him that if he would go
alone I would be glad, as then I should not have to keep him waiting,
so I called an attendant and gave him the necessary instructions.
Before the Professor left the room I cautioned him against getting any
false impression from my patient.

"But," he answered, "I want him to talk of himself and of his delusion
as to consuming live things. He said to Madam Mina, as I see in your
diary of yesterday, that he had once had such a belief. Why do you
smile, friend John?"

"Excuse me," I said, "but the answer is here." I laid my hand on the
typewritten matter. "When our sane and learned lunatic made that very
statement of how he used to consume life, his mouth was actually
nauseous with the flies and spiders which he had eaten just before
Mrs. Harker entered the room."

Van Helsing smiled in turn. "Good!" he said. "Your memory is true,
friend John. I should have remembered. And yet it is this very
obliquity of thought and memory which makes mental disease such a
fascinating study. Perhaps I may gain more knowledge out of the folly
of this madman than I shall from the teaching of the most wise. Who
knows?"

I went on with my work, and before long was through that in hand. It
seemed that the time had been very short indeed, but there was Van
Helsing back in the study.

"Do I interrupt?" he asked politely as he stood at the door.

"Not at all," I answered. "Come in. My work is finished, and I am
free. I can go with you now, if you like."

"It is needless, I have seen him!"

"Well?"

"I fear that he does not appraise me at much. Our interview was
short. When I entered his room he was sitting on a stool in the
centre, with his elbows on his knees, and his face was the picture of
sullen discontent. I spoke to him as cheerfully as I could, and with
such a measure of respect as I could assume. He made no reply
whatever. 'Don't you know me?' I asked. His answer was not
reassuring: 'I know you well enough; you are the old fool Van
Helsing. I wish you would take yourself and your idiotic brain
theories somewhere else. Damn all thick-headed Dutchmen!' Not a word
more would he say, but sat in his implacable sullenness as indifferent
to me as tho