g funny," repeated the
doctor. "Ah, now we're getting to the heart of it!"

"Yes," she resumed vaguely, "that's what he kept saying."

"And what was it he _did_ that you thought strange?" he asked
sympathetically. "Be brief, or he may be here before you finish."

"Very small things, but significant it seemed to me. He changed his
workroom from the library, as we call it, to the sitting-room. He said
all his characters became wrong and terrible in the library; they
altered, so that he felt like writing tragedies--vile, debased
tragedies, the tragedies of broken souls. But now he says the same of
the smoking-room, and he's gone back to the library."

"Ah!"

"You see, there's so little I can tell you," she went on, with
increasing speed and countless gestures. "I mean it's only very small
things he does and says that are queer. What frightens me is that he
assumes there is some one else in the house all the time--some one I
never see. He does not actually say so, but on the stairs I've seen him
standing aside to let some one pass; I've seen him open a door to let
some one in or out; and often in our bedroom he puts chairs about as
though for some one else to sit in. Oh--oh yes, and once or twice," she
cried--"once or twice--"

She paused, and looked about her with a startled air.

"Yes?"

"Once or twice," she resumed hurriedly, as though she heard a sound that
alarmed her, "I've heard him running--coming in and out of the rooms
breathless as if something were after him--"

The door opened while she was still speaking, cutting her words off in
the middle, and a man came into the room. He was dark and
clean-shaven sallow rather, with the eyes of imagination, and dark hair
growing scantily about the temples. He was dressed in a shabby tweed
suit, and wore an untidy flannel collar at the neck. The dominant
expression of his face was startled--hunted; an expression that might
any moment leap into the dreadful stare of terror and announce a total
loss of self-control.

The moment he saw his visitor a smile spread over his worn features, and
he advanced to shake hands.

"I hoped you would come; Mrs. Sivendson said you might be able to find
time," he said simply. His voice was thin and reedy. "I am very glad to
see you, Dr. Silence. It is 'Doctor,' is it not?"

"Well, I am entitled to the description," laughed the other, "but I
rarely get it. You know, I do not practice as a regular thing; that is,
I only take case