ss figure of Thalassa, led the way into the front room. He
closed the door before he spoke.

"Doctor," he said, "have you told anybody about those marks on Robert
Turold's arm?"

"I have not," said the doctor promptly, looking up. "Why do you ask?"

His glance carried conviction, and interrogation also. But it was
Barrant's province to ask questions, not to answer them. He ignored Dr.
Ravenshaw's.

"There's another matter, doctor," he continued. "One of the coast
fishermen has a story that when Robert Turold was out on the moors he used
to hasten home with great strides, like a man who feared pursuit. Did you
ever observe this peculiarity in him?"

"I have observed that he used to walk at a quick pace."

"This was more than a quick pace--it was almost a run, according to the
fisherman--looking backward over his shoulder as he went."

"I did not notice that, but I should not be surprised if it were true,
with a man of Robert Turold's temperament."

"He feared pursuit--some unknown danger, then?"

"I cannot say. He may have suffered from agoraphobia."

"What is that?" asked Barrant.

"The dread of open spaces."

"I have heard of claustrophobia--the dread of closed spaces--but not of
this."

"It is common enough--an absurd but insurmountable aversion to open
spaces. The victims are oppressed by a terrible anxiety when crossing a
field. I have known a man who would be terrified at the idea of crossing
Trafalgar Square."

"What is the cause of agoraphobia?" asked Barrant.

"It is a nervous disorder--one of the symptoms of advanced neurasthenia."

"Did Robert Turold suffer from neurasthenia?"

"His nervous system was in a state of irritable weakness through the
monomania of a fixed idea," was the reply--"too much seclusion and
concentration on one object, to the exclusion of all other human
interests."

"How's your patient?" said Barrant, giving the conversation an abrupt
turn.

"What patient do you mean--Mrs. Thalassa?" asked Dr. Ravenshaw in some
surprise.

"Yes. I gathered from what I overheard you say to Thalassa that you have
been attending her."

"I have been attending her since Mr. Turold's death."

"She is in a strange condition," observed Barrant reflectively. "I was
questioning her the other night, but I could get nothing out of her. She
seems almost imbecile."

"She is not a woman of strong mind, and she is now suffering from a severe
shock. She should be looked after or taken away fr