"You surely recognise the familiar sun-dew with its round head stuck all over with little stalk-like tentacles each having a knob at the end, the whole reminding one of a round pincushion stuffed with pins. Now I have noticed that the heads of these tentacles secrete a sticky, treacly juice, and the moment a fly alights to suck that juice its legs become entangled, and the fly is at once a prisoner. Immediately this happens, all the neighbouring tentacles bend over the captive fly, exactly as the tentacles of a sea-anemone bend over their prey, and suck its life-blood." "I have not studied these plant problems," said Riche, "but now that you demonstrate some of them so clearly they do indeed appear marvellous." "Ah, my dear doctor," said Delapine, "there are quite a host of problems awaiting solution in the actions of that plant. The moment one begins to think, and to ask one-self Why and How, one becomes aware of one's dense ignorance of the every-day operations of Nature. We are accustomed to look upon a plant as if it were an inanimate thing, and yet there can be no doubt that it enjoys life, and feels and thinks after some sort of fashion. I have often wondered if it ever occurs to a girl as she plucks a flower that the plant might decidedly object to having its head cut off. Of course I do not lay it down that a plant can feel pain in the same way that we do. That it can feel, I have amply shown you, and that it has some dim consciousness of existence I am fully convinced." "It is intensely interesting, and must be a splendid relaxation for you, Delapine," said Villebois, "but all the same you should not forget that there are other relaxations also, and one of them is to come over to the summer-house where I see François has just brought some coffee and liqueurs." As they entered the cool shades of the arbour, Duval, who had been passing a quiet half hour there in deep thought, rose to meet them. "Ah, glad to see you, Pierre," called out Villebois in a cheerful tone, and mindful of his promise to Delapine. "We have just come over for a little refreshment and cool air after the heat of the conservatory. Which do you prefer," he continued, "some coffee or a liqueur? I can recommend this Curaçao but perhaps you would rather have some coffee," and he proceeded to light the samovar. "Coffee and a cigarette for me by all means," replied Pierre, "I always think the two go so admirably together, each seems to bring out the acme of flavour in the other." "Very true," said Villebois, who delighted in playing the host, as he proceeded to fill all the four cups with the fragrant Mocha. At this moment Céleste appeared on the verandah. "Look, papa, what a lovely orchid I am going to bring you," she called out, with a wealth of love and laughter shining in her eyes.