“Undoubtedly. What relationship should he bear to me? He has come from earth, a place I never visit.” “I noticed such a strong likeness I imagined there must be some relationship.” “A strong likeness,” cried Vestasian in a voice as hard and cold as his face had suddenly grown, and he gazed over at me probably to discover the resemblance. “You need not think the distaste is all one-sided,” I observed. “You are the last person in the universe I have the least ambition to be like.” “Then it gives me the greatest pleasure in the universe to believe in the resemblance. Why do you object to me? But rather let us change the conversation, it is personal and therefore unpleasant. Do you deal much in cocaine, Philemon?” “No, I have no such thing in my laboratory.” “Come, come, I have known you administer a dose.” “Indeed not. I never give any strong medicine in more than one dose—and the effect is lasting. The effects of cocaine, as you know, pass away.” Vestasian smiled. “Yes. All too truly. But do you really mean to say you never give more than one dose of a strong medicine? Surely the effects cannot last for ever.” “They last a pretty sure length anyway. That’s the difference, you know, between the real thing and a sham.” “Plucritus is at home ill, suffering from a wound,” Vestasian went on, turning to me. “Indeed. That will be a new experience for him,” I suggested. “Oh, no. Not at all. He and Virginius, as a rule, manage to keep fairly even.” “I should think as an invalid he would be rather unmanageable.” “Not at all. Only, he has one peculiarity. When he is ill he will have no physician, however experienced and wise. He will have no one but Vestné to wait on him.” “And is she a good nurse?” “Oh! capital. Almost as good as I am.” “Have you a gift that way?” “Of course. With a wife as ailing as mine it is necessary I know something about such things.” “Yet you are not clever enough to keep her alive.” I repented the words as soon as said, there was such a clumsy want of feeling about them. He looked at me and passed his hand before his mouth. “No, I am not clever enough for that,” he remarked quietly. “Which way did you come?” Philemon asked. “I came direct from hell and caught a glimpse of earth as I passed. You may be thankful you are out of it, Genius; those who dispatched you did the greatest kindness. I find earth depressing, I never wish to stay there.” “If it depresses you, why do you not tear away the chain and the mist?” He shook his head, then smiled.