The girl who had helped me with the dressing was outside, feeding sugar to the mare. The two seemed old friends. I saw, as I drew near, that she bore a strong resemblance to Lessing himself, sufficient to proclaim her his sister. She had the same deep hazel eyes, but her hair was lighter; it showed a bronze glint as she stood bare-headed in the sunshine. It would have been an attractive face but for a look of cynicism, almost a hardness, in the lines of her mouth. I was glad that it was she I encountered instead of Mrs. Lessing. Here was at least one practical person in this puzzling household. She turned as I came near, but without moving. "Your brother will do all right," I said without preamble. "Keep him quiet today, and if possible make him sleep. He wants rest badly." She nodded, brushing the crumbs of sugar from her hands. "How long has this been going on?" "The not sleeping?" She looked at me sharply. "About four or five nights." "I thought so. Can't you make him?" She looked at me almost contemptuously, as though wondering that my interview with Lessing had taught me so little. "Does he look as if I could?" "You can do it if anyone can," I said. "I shall be back tomorrow. If by any chance I am wanted..." "I'll come and fetch you," she said. "Good." I turned to unfasten the mare, then paused. "You have a dog here, I think. May I see it?" For a moment she seemed about to hesitate. "If you like," she said then. I followed her round to the side of the house. A small sort of tool-shed stood not far from the odd building I had noticed, and which I saw now was not an annex, but separate from the house. The door of the shed was closed, and from within a whining and scratching greeted our approach. Without a word she turned the key and threw open the door. A magnificent orange setter rushed out nearly knocking her down. There was nothing savage in his demeanor; he licked her hands and face and even tried to include me in the demonstration, but what caught my attention was his inexplicable behavior the next moment. He bounded straight toward the big outbuilding, but within a few paces of it he stopped, whining and sniffing, his ears laid back, his body trailed near to the ground, as though in some abject fear. Whining still, he dragged himself back to our feet and crouched there, trembling. Miss Lessing's voice broke the silence. "Do you advise," she said, "that he should be destroyed as dangerous?" "I think," I replied, "that is hardly necessary, at present. What's the matter with him?" Her lip curled a little as she looked at me. She shrugged her shoulders. "He is frightened. Do you believe in the instinct of dogs, Doctor Haverill?" "What is that building used for?" I asked curtly. "It is my brother's laboratory."