"You are merely challenging my deductions! Will you reply to my questions?--tell me the connection between us?--who you are?" "No." "Come here!" "What?" said Eaton. "Come here--close to me, beside the bed." Eaton hesitated, and then obeyed. "Bend over!" Eaton stooped, and the blind man's hands seized him. Instantly Eaton withdrew. "Wait!" Santoine warned. "If you do not stay, I shall call help." One hand went to the bell beside his bed. Harriet had risen; she met Eaton's gaze warningly and nodded to him to comply. He bent again over the bed. He felt the blind man's sensitive fingers searching his features, his head, his throat. Eaton gazed at Santoine's face while the fingers were examining him; he could see that Santoine was merely finding confirmation of an impression already gained from what had been told him about Eaton. Santoine showed nothing more than this confirmation; certainly he did not recognize Eaton. More than this, Eaton could not tell. "Now your hands," Santoine ordered. Eaton extended one hand and then the other; the blind man felt over them from wrists to the tips of the fingers; then he let himself sink back against the pillows, absorbed in thought. Eaton straightened and looked to Harriet where she was standing at the foot of the bed; she, however, was intently watching her father and did not look Eaton's way. "You may go," Santoine said at last. "Go?" Eaton asked. "You may leave the room. Blatchford will meet you downstairs." Santoine reached for the house telephone beside his bed--receiver and transmitter on one light band--and gave directions to have Blatchford await Eaton in the hall below.