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 needy. "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 practise as a regular thing; that is,
I only take cases that specially interest me, or--"