_87._ Josephine Francis alone, and as always, proved completely uncooperative. Undoubtedly much of her stubbornness was due to her sex; the residue, to her unorthodox approach to the mysteries of science. When I prodded her for results she snarled she was not a slotmachine. When I pointed out tactfully that only my money made possible the continuation of her efforts, she told me rudely to seek the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem before it was covered by the Grass. Again and again I urged her to give me some idea how long it would be before she could produce a chemical even for experimental use against the Grass and each time she turned me aside with insult or rude jest. I had set her up in--or rather, to be more accurate, she had insisted upon--a completely equipped and isolated laboratory in Surrey. As it was convenient to my Hampshire place I dropped in almost daily upon her; but I cannot say my visits perceptibly quickened her lethargy. "Worried, Weener?" she asked me, absently putting down a coffeepot on a stack of microscope slides. "_Cynodon dactylon_'ll eat gold and banknotes, drillpresses and openhearths as readily as quartz and mica, dead bodies and abandoned household goods." I couldnt resist the opening. "Anything in fact," I pointed out, "except salt." "A Daniel!" she exclaimed. "A Daniel come to judgment. Oh, Weener, thou shouldst have been born a chemist. And what is the other mistake? Give me leave to throw away my retorts and testtubes and bunsen burners by revealing the other element besides sodium _Cynodon dactylon_ refuses. For every mistake there is another mistake which supplements it. Sodium was the blindspot in the Metamorphizer; when I find the balancing blindspot I shall know not only the second element which the Grass cannot absorb but one which will be poison to it." "I'm not a chemist, Miss Francis," I said, "but it seems to me Ive heard there are a limited number of elements." "There are. And three states for each element. And an infinite number of conditions governing their application. What's the matter--arent your trained seals performing?" "All the research laboratories of Consolidated Pemmican are going night and day." "Then what the devil are you hounding me for? Let them find the counteragent." "Two heads are better than one." "Nonsense. Two blockheads are worse than one insofar as they tend to regard each other as a source of wisdom. I shall conquer the Grass, I alone, I, Josephine Spencer Francis--and as soon as possible. Now you have all the data in its most specific form. And I shall accomplish this because I must and not because I love Albert Weener or care a litmuspaper whether or not his offal is swallowed up. I have done what I have done (God forgive me) and I shall undo it, but the matter is between me and a Larger Accountant than the clerk who signs your monthly checks." "What do you think about temporary protective measures in the meanwhile?"