"I've always been the stronger; I am now. But recently, Pat--I think it's since I fell in love with you--the struggle has been on evener terms. I've weakened or he's gained. I have to guard against him constantly; in any moment of weakness he may slip in, as on our ride last week, when we had that near accident. And again Saturday." He turned appealing eyes on the girl. "Pat, do you believe me?" "I guess I'll have to," she said unhappily. "It--makes things rather hopeless, doesn't it?" He nodded dejectedly. "Yes. I've always felt that sooner or later I'd win, and drive him away permanently. I've felt on the verge of complete victory more than once, but now--" He shook his head doubtfully. "He had never dominated me so entirely until Saturday night--Pat, you don't know what Hell is like until you're forced as I was to watch the violation of the being you worship, to stand helpless while a desecration is committed. I'd rather die than suffer it again!" "Oh!" said the girl faintly. She was thinking of the sorry picture she must have presented as she reeled half-clothed through the alley. "Can you see what--_he_ sees?" "Of course, and think his thoughts. But only when he's dominant. I don't know what evil he's planning now, else I could forestall him, I would have warned you if I could have known." "Where is he now?" "Here," said Nick somberly. "Here listening to us, knowing what I'm thinking and feeling, laughing at my unhappiness." "Oh!" gasped Pat again. She watched her companion doubtfully. Then the memory of Dr. Horker's diagnosis came to her, and set her wondering. Was this story the figment of an unsettled mind? Was this irrational tale of a fiendish intruder merely evidence that the Doctor was right in his opinion? She was in a maze of uncertainty. "Nick," she said, "did you ever try medical help? Did you ever go to a doctor about it?" "Of course, Pat! Two years ago I went to a famous psychiatrist in New York--you'd know the name if I mentioned it--and told him about the--the case. And he studied me, and he treated me, and psychoanalyzed me, and the net result was just nothing. And finally he dismissed me with the opinion that 'the whole thing is just a fixed delusion, fortunately harmless!' Harmless! Bah! But it wasn't I that did those things, Pat; I had to stand by in horror and watch. It was enough to _drive_ me crazy, but it didn't--quite." "But--Oh, Nick, what is it? What is this--this outsider? Can't we fight it somehow?" "How can anyone except me fight it?" "Oh, I don't know!" she wailed miserably. "There must be a way. Doctors claim to know pretty nearly everything; there must be _something_ to do." "But there isn't," he retorted gloomily. "I don't know any more than you what that thing is, but it's beyond your doctors. I've got to fight it out alone." "Nick--" Her voice was suddenly tense. "Are you sure it isn't some kind of madness? Something tangible like that could perhaps be treated."