which had distinguished him from the time when he was a student,
he still subjected her to one test after another. The result was
always the same. Not only was there no tendency to brain disease--
there was not even a perceptible derangement of the nervous system.
'I can find nothing the matter with you,' he said. 'I can't even
account for the extraordinary pallor of your complexion. You completely
puzzle me.'

'The pallor of my complexion is nothing,' she answered a
little impatiently. 'In my early life I had a narrow escape from
death by poisoning. I have never had a complexion since--and my skin
is so delicate, I cannot paint without producing a hideous rash.
But that is of no importance. I wanted your opinion given positively.
I believed in you, and you have disappointed me.' Her head dropped
on her breast. 'And so it ends!' she said to herself bitterly.

The Doctor's sympathies were touched. Perhaps it might be more
correct to say that his professional pride was a little hurt.
'It may end in the right way yet,' he remarked, 'if you choose to
help me.'

She looked up again with flashing eyes, 'Speak plainly,' she said.
'How can I help you?'

'Plainly, madam, you come to me as an enigma, and you leave me
to make the right guess by the unaided efforts of my art. My art
will do much, but not all. For example, something must have occurred--
something quite unconnected with the state of your bodily health--
to frighten you about yourself, or you would never have come here
to consult me. Is that true?'