“But what if the beasts do eat up your old hide! It won’t hurt ’em even if it is a tough proposition. And you don’t need your cuticle and cartilage any more, as I can see--and besides, I want you home today specially. I want you home tonight anyway, for, Leff and Genesy, too”--and Bill’s voice dropped,--“suppose we let bygones be bygones. I’ve been a Tom-Fool to monkey with the irrevocable. I concede the superiority of the astral. I acknowledge your primordial claim upon each other. But I’m tired of these strained relations in the house. Let’s have peace and a good time. And now that I’m finding consolation in Science, why not let’s call off the fight? Let’s have a cessation of hostilities and a renewal of confidences.” “With all my heart,” said Alonzo Leffingwell, which appeared more cordial than the fact really warranted. For in his state of being, “heart” was a very empty space. “I’m reconciled,” he continued languidly. “Me, too,” sighed Imogene, suspiciously and reluctantly. “Shake,” said Bill in a loud, glad voice, laying one hand over his wife’s and shaking the other cordially through the wrist of the astral gentleman. “I say, let’s celebrate. I’m dead tired of this lonesomeness down in the coal bins--and--now, the fact is, Genesy”--and Bill went on gaily,--“I’ve anticipated our reconciliation and I want you both to come down to my workshop. I’ve got a nice little layout for you in the laboratory. Of course, I know Leff isn’t much on vittles--but I do know Genesy likes the pop of a cork. Don’t you, old girl?” “You better believe,” assented Imogene. “And did you really get some Extra Dry?--I--” “Well, you just come and see what I’ve got for you. As the French say, this is an ock-kazh-un. We’ll just pop a few corks. Let’s agree to swallow the past in a couple of pints of Mumm’s best, and--come along or the ice will melt.” And he half pulled and half pushed Mrs. Vanderhook toward the inside cellar-way. The Mystic followed slowly, haltingly, and then hurried on to Imogene’s side. “I have a presentiment”--he murmured. “Of what, Lonnie Llama?” tenderly. “Alas, I know not what; but I am seldom left on these impressions. Let’s not go into the cellar.” “Why, what can _he_ do to an _astral_ man? He couldn’t hurt you if he tried.” In her eagerness Imogene spoke loud enough for her husband to hear. Bill Vanderhook appeared to be smoking a cigar. In reality he was gnashing his teeth. Alonzo said no more, but laid his hand apprehensively over the region formerly occupied by a heart. They were now in the cellar, and in another moment the trio had passed through the laundry--past the fruit closets and the coal bins, and were now ushered into the partitioned corner which had been converted into a library and laboratory. They entered the library, which was comfortably furnished, brilliantly lighted, well ventilated and altogether a Cosy Corner for--a studious man.