n't happen!" Parker was stunned. He had known
Fleming Proctor, and liked him. They met often at the country club.
"Proctor was honest, and a fine business man!"
"It did happen, Allen!"
"I'd like to know more about it. That would have been a case for Dr.
von Stein to take in hand."
"Perhaps," said Betty, in a voice like ice. "But I'm more interested
in finding out how soon you are going to return to normal. Frankly,
I'm beginning to get bored."
Without a word Parker rose and left the room. Never before had his
wife hurt him like this. Doubly sensitive just now, he was suffering
alone in the studio when the telephone rang.
"Dr. von Stein speaking. Are you better, Mr. Parker?"
"Worse! Much worse!"
"Then come to my house this evening at nine. May I expect you? And
alone?"
"Yes." There was much Parker wanted to say, but he choked the words
back. "I'll be there, and alone."
"I shall be ready for you. Good-by."
Allen Parker hung up the receiver. He did not leave the studio again
until evening.
* * * * *
As Parker approached the house of Dr. Friedrich von Stein he saw that
the church was lighted as it had been the night before. In a clear sky
the moon rode above the spire. He paused to let his glance sweep up
along the beautiful line that ran from earth to the slender cross.
That was how he felt. He wanted to rise, as that line rose, from
cumbering earth to clarity and beauty.
He mounted the steps and rang. Dr. von Stein met him, with eyes and
teeth agleam in the hall light. Wearily Parker stepped inside. His
mood of the moment before was fading.
"Go upstairs to my laboratory, if you please," said the doctor. "It is
best that I see you there, for it may be that you will need
treatment."
"I need something," replied Parker as he went up a long flight of
stairs. "I'm in a bad way."
Without answer von Stein led him down a short corridor and held open a
door. Allen Parker stepped into a room that bewildered him with its
strange contrasts.
At a glance he saw that nearly the whole upper floor of the building
had been converted into one gigantic room. Near a big stone fireplace,
where burning driftwood sent up its many tinted flames, Heinrich stood
rigidly at attention. Hans, the dachshund, crouched at his feet. When
the dog started to meet Parker a guttural command stopped him.
Here there were bearskins on the floor, huge stuffed chairs,
footrests, little table
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