The Privy Councillor approached Mabuse. “How would it be, Doctor, if _you_ were to make an attempt? After the tests of your power which I have already seen, I think we can promise to get rid of these disturbing influences,” he said. Mabuse declared himself willing to try, at any rate, though he could not vouch for the result, as he was suffering from a slight chill which affected his head. He at once took a short step towards the medium, however, and they saw that she moved slightly in his direction as if attracted by a magnet. Mabuse did not utter a word, but he let his glance wander over part of her body. The girl became even paler than before, if possible, and although she made no movement, it was easy to see that she struggled against something invisible, that her resistance grew quickly weaker and that her eyes fell before him. Then Mabuse said in a rapid and violent tone: “You are lying in swaddling clothes. Your arms are bound fast to your side. You are six months’ old. It is evening, and you are crying. Why are you crying?” And from the heavy body of this girl, sleeping with wide-open eyes, there came a piping, fretful voice: “I have a pain in my stomach.” “That is only wind. You’ve had too much to drink. Who gave it you?” “I got it from the breast of a woman,” answered the baby voice. “Do you love that breast?” Then the girl grew deathly white, and into the childish voice there crept a piercing and angry note, “No.” “What did you want to do?” “I wanted to bite it with my gums!” “Why?” Then the girl was seized with trembling, which passed over her whole body, and Mabuse said, “Every minute that prolongs this endangers her life. I must bring the experiment to an end!” He laid the girl down on a sofa, and with reassuring movements he released her from sleep and bathed her face, and when she came to herself again recommended her being put to bed. The conversation now turned upon Mabuse’s experiment, and everyone was asking questions, speculating on what she would have said. “That was a fairy-tale,” said Told; “a fable of the preconscious existence! Doctor, you are a genius. But what did she want to say that made her tremble so?” A lady came forward with the same question on her lips, but Mabuse’s eyes sought the Countess, and she, too, came forward to ask. Then Mabuse answered, “She wanted to say, ‘Because I hated her so!’” The Countess shrank back and the others were silent, painfully affected. Then the Countess leaned forward, saying coldly, “A baby cannot hate!” “How do you know that?” asked Mabuse roughly. “I know it ... of myself,” she replied. “Then you can rejoice over yourself, for you are not only a genius at recollection, but also an angel in disposition!” retorted Mabuse sarcastically.