"It's--it's this confounded thing." Mr. Pownceby held out the slim, green-covered pamphlet. "You know I told you I'd written for that pamphlet, 'How to Hypnotise.' Well, the thing came this morning; here it is! I've been experimenting on her, and I've not only hypnotised her, but, by George, I can't get her round again." "A pretty state of things, upon my word." "Don't pitch into me now, Doris, don't. There she is in her sitting-room in a fit or something; I don't know what's the matter with her; and her husband's coming this morning." "He is coming at last, is he?" "I expect him every moment; he's due at 12.32." "She seems to have told you all about it." "She told me so much, at any rate. I know I've been an ass, I can see that now, but lend me a hand first, and let me have it afterwards. I was obliged to come to you. I couldn't let him find me alone with her in such a state as that. Come and see what you can do for her, there's a darling, do! After all, it's for me, you know, not her." Miss Haseltine yielded so far as to advance with him along the corridor. There was a fresh arrival when they reached the hall--a gentleman. He was speaking to the young lady, who acted as book-keeper, through the office window. "My name is Pratt--Gilead J. Pratt. I believe my wife is staying here." Mr. Pownceby clutched Miss Haseltine's arm. "It's he!" he whispered. "There is a Mrs. Pratt staying here," replied the book-keeper. "Her sitting-room is No. 13." The new arrival was about to be ushered into No. 13, when Mr. Pownceby interposed. He hurried across the hall and touched him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, may I speak to you? My name is Pownceby." The new arrival turned and faced him. As he did so Mr. Pownceby perceived, a little dimly perhaps, what sort of a man he was. He was of medium height, slightly built, about forty years of age, very dark, with a clean-shaven face and a pair of keen black eyes, which looked at Mr. Pownceby as though they meant to pierce him. "Delighted to hear you speak, or any man, even if his name's not Pownceby." Directly the words were spoken Mr. Pownceby became conscious that the new arrival was an American. "I believe you are Mr. Pratt--Mrs. Pratt's husband." "I am--worse luck." "Eh--she intended to meet you at 12.32." "She did, did she? That's her all through. As she used to be. She never did get farther than intentions. It is about two years since I saw her, and I don't see her now. Have you a message to deliver? Does she desire that I should go away for another two years? If so, I'm willing."