"Well, here's what I remember about him, Pat. He was an M.D., all right, but I see by his paper there--the one I was reading--that he was on the staff of Northern U. He did some work at the Cook County Asylum, some research work, and there was a bit of talk about his maltreating the patients. Then, on top of that, he published a paper that medical men considered crazy, and that started talk of his sanity. That's all I know." "Then Nick--." "I thought so! So it's come to the point where you're investigating his antecedents, eh? With an eye to marriage, or what?" "Or what!" snapped Pat. "I was curious to know, naturally." "Naturally." The Doctor gave her a keen glance from his shrewd eyes. "Did you think you detected incipient dementia in your ideal?" "No," said the girl thoughtfully. "Dr. Carl, is there any sort of craziness that could take an ordinarily shy person and make a passionate devil of him? I don't mean passionate, either," she added. "Rather cold, ruthless, domineering." "None that I know of," said Horker, watching her closely. "Did this Nick of yours have one of his masterful moments?" "Worse than that," admitted Pat reluctantly. "We had a near accident, and it startled both of us, and then suddenly, he was looking at me like a devil, and then--" She paused. "It frightened me a little." "What'd he do?" demanded Horker sharply. "Nothing." She lied with no hesitation. "Were there any signs of Satyromania?" "I don't know. I never heard of that." "I mean, in plain Americanese, did he make a pass at you?" "He--no, he didn't." "Well, what _did_ he do?" "He just looked at me." Somehow a feeling of disloyalty was rising in her; she felt a reluctance to betray Nick further. "What did he say, then? And don't lie this time." "He just said--He just looked at my legs and said something about their being beautiful, and that was all. After that, the look on his face faded into the old Nick." "Old Nick is right--the impudent scoundrel!" Horker's voice rumbled angrily. "Well, they're nice legs," said Pat defiantly, swinging them as evidence. "You've said it yourself. Why shouldn't _he_ say it? What's to keep him from it?" "The code of a gentleman, for one thing!" "Oh, who cares for your Victorian codes! Anyway, I came here for information, not to be cross-examined. I want to ask the questions myself." "Pat, you're a reckless little spit-fire, and you're going to get burned some day, and deserve it," the Doctor rumbled ominously. "Ask your fool questions, and then I'll ask mine." "All right," said the girl, still defiant. "I don't guarantee to answer yours, however." "Well, ask yours, you imp!" "First, then--Is that Satyro-stuff you mentioned intermittent or continuous?" "It's necessarily intermittent, you numb-skull! The male organism can't function continuously!" "I mean, does the mania lie dormant for weeks or months, and then flare up?" "Not at all. It's a permanent mania, like any other psychopathic sex condition."