“Of course, why not?” “Because I don’t. He may be practising tricks for the Christmas party—that may be true, but there was no trick to what we saw just now—the snake was real, and the altar and the incense—and George was praying—he was praying to that snake.” “Even so,” said Terry. “We’re not missionaries that we should try to convert the heathen. I don’t care how many snake worshippers there are in New York.” “It isn’t that, Terry—I know it sounds weird, but the night I saw him before, was the night Professor Pendragon was stricken with paralysis—” She stopped frightened by the lack of comprehension in Terry’s face. “Don’t you see if George will worship a snake, he is the sort of person who will pray calamities on his enemies. If he loves Gloria, then he hates Professor Pendragon, because he is the only man Gloria has loved. When Pendragon’s name was first mentioned, you remember the Sunday morning I got the card to the water colour show, George was even more concerned than Gloria, and when I went he warned me to be careful what I said. I believe that he is responsible for Pendragon’s illness.” Comprehension had dawned in Terry’s face, but with it Ruth could see a tolerant incredulity and a wonder that she could believe such nonsense. “It’s reasonable enough that George hates Pendragon, but even if he does hate him and even if he was actually praying for him to be harmed, that doesn’t give a prop snake the power to carry out his wishes.” “It isn’t the snake; it’s the power of George’s concentrated thought.” “Thoughts can’t harm people,” said Terry. “But they can—thoughts are things and evil thoughts are as powerful as good ones.” She could almost see the thoughts passing through Terry’s brain. He was looking at her, assuring himself that she really was sane and had been up to this night quite normal, almost uninterestingly normal, and even while she tried to make her beliefs clear she was conscious of a feeling of exultation because for the first time she was actually interesting the man. “I’ve heard of Indian fakirs who could paralyse parts of their own bodies so that knives could be thrust into them without causing the slightest pain, but I never heard of one who exercised such power over another person, but even if that were possible how would it help to send George away? If Gloria sent him away, he could still keep on thinking and worshipping snakes, too, for that matter,” he said, smiling. “Professor Pendragon told me that if he had an enemy who was trying to harm him, he would try and destroy that enemy’s faith in his ability to harm. What we must do is destroy the snake first. George worships the snake or some power of which the snake is a symbol. Either way if we destroy the snake we destroy George’s confidence in his ability to harm.”