"Is she Rhamda's wife?"

His eyes lit fire.

"No!"

"Do you love her?"

He went blank again; but at last he spoke slowly.

"No, I don't love her. What's the use? She's not for me. I did;
but I learned better. I was after the professor--and the Blind
Spot. She--"

Again that look of haunted pursuit. He glanced about the room.
Whatever had been his experience, it was plain that he had not
given up. He held something and he held it still. What was it?

"You say you didn't find the Blind Spot?"

"No, I did not find it."

"Have you any idea?"

"My dear Harry," he answered, "I am full of ideas. That's the
trouble. I am near it. It's the cause of my present condition. I
don't know just what it is nor where. A condition, or a
combination of phenomena. You remember the lecture that was never
delivered? Had the doctor spoken that morning the world would have