"About like a lone American guest in a twenty-franc-per-day hotel in Paris. Why, yes, they're very comfortable there--all but the girl. She's discontented and unhappy, if I'm any judge, and is besieged day and night by the mourning faithful, not to speak of certain amorous males." This hurt, and Serviss shifted ground. "Does she keep up her music?" Again Britt smiled, but not humorously. "She plays the harp--in the dark." "You mean--" "She's taken on a lot more of the regulation tricks--materializing flowers, slate-writing, music without hands, etc." "You don't mean it! I can hardly associate such doings with her," sorrow and indignation mingled in his voice. "I assure you I was there last night at a 'circle,' and these things took place with Clarke as ring-master. There wasn't a particle of originality--it was the same old mill, and the same old grist, yet I don't hold her responsible in any harmful degree. I can't believe she designedly tricks, but she's surrounded now by a gang of chattering, soft-pated women, and men with bats in their belfry, who unite in assuring her that her God-given powers must be fostered. They've cut her off from any decent marriage--she's virtually a prisoner to their whims. What they may induce her to do next I don't know. I'm going to hang round here for a week or two and see." A violent fit of coughing interrupted him. When he recovered he looked up sidewise. "Isn't this a peach of a climate? Wouldn't you think they'd build at least one of their big cities where microbes couldn't fatten on genius?" "What led Clarke to consent to leaving the West? When I was there he bitterly opposed her going." "Oh, it's very simple. He has written a book on _The Physical Proof of Immortality_, and, being anxious for a publisher, withdrew his opposition to her plan, and declared himself willing to go to Boston--at Lambert's expense." "Is he out of the Church?" "Absolutely. You should have heard his farewell sermon. It really was as dramatic a speech as I ever heard. He went on to declare that the Hebrews were not the only seers, that the wells of inspiration were not yet dry, that revelation was waiting upon every soul to-day, and that he had been led by sorrow to listen at the key-hole, and so on. I trembled for the girl's secret, but he had himself in hand, and did not betray her. No one out there knows for certain what her abnormalities are." "How about Lambert? Why didn't he take a hand?" "He seemed bewildered by it all, and overawed by Clarke and the girl's 'controls.' 'It's all above timber-line for me,' he said, but he didn't like their coming away a little bit. He was angry with Clarke for breaking up his home, and if the girl had been his own I think he would have stopped the business long ago. Then there was a young fellow, Clinton Ward, who was working for Lambert, a fine young fellow--" "I remember him."