'The hypnotised subject often draws a line somewhere.'

'The woman must be a fiend,' said Merton.

'Some of them are, now and then,' said the author of _Clinical
Psychology_.

* * * * *

Miss Blossom's cab, the driver much encouraged by Tommy, who conversed
with him through the trap in the roof, dashed up to the door of a house
close to Lord's. The horse was going fast, and nearly cannoned into
another cab-horse, also going fast, which was almost thrown on its
haunches by the driver. Inside the other hansom was a tall man with a
pale face under the tan, who was nervously gnawing his moustache. Miss
Blossom saw him, Tommy saw him, and cried 'Father!' Half-hidden behind a
blind of the house Miss Blossom beheld a woman's face, expectant. Clearly
she was Miss Limmer. All the while that they were driving Miss Blossom's
wits had been at work to construct a story to account for the absence and
return of the children. Now, by a flash of invention, she called to her
cabman, 'Drive on--fast!' Major Apsley saw his lost children with their
arms round the neck of a wonderfully pretty girl; the pretty girl waved
her parasol to him with a smile, beckoning forwards; the children waved
their arms, calling out 'A race! a race!'

What could a puzzled parent do but bid his cabman follow like the wind?
Miss Blossom's cab flew past Lord's, dived into Regent's Park, leading by
two lengths; reached the Zoological Gardens, and there its crew alighted,
demurely waiting for the Major. He leaped from his hansom, and taking
off his hat, strode up to Miss Blossom, as if he were leading a charge.