“You talk foolishly!” he said, in a low, stern voice. “My ‘forced product’ as you call it, is not mine, except in so far that I have found and made use of the forces of regenerative life which are in God’s life and air and which enter into the work of all creation. Your ‘prettiness’ is God’s work!--lift up your eyes to the Almighty Power which ‘maketh all things new!’” Awed and startled by the impassioned tone of his voice and his impressive manner, she stood inert, her hand remaining passively in his firm grasp. “Men propose to you,” he went on, “because they find you attractive, and because your face and figure excite their passions--there is no real ‘love’ in the case, any more than there is in most proposals. The magnetism of sex is the thing that ‘pulls’--but you--you, my ‘subject,’ have _no_ sex! That’s what nobody outside ourselves is likely to understand. The ‘love’ which is purely physical,--the mating which has for its object the breeding of children, is not for you any more than it would be for an angel--you are removed from its material and sensual contact. But the love which should touch your soul to immortal issues, and which by its very character is expressed through youth and beauty,--that _may_ come to you!--that may be yours in due time! Meanwhile, beware how you talk of my ‘forced product’--for behind all the powers I am permitted to use is the Greatest Power of all, to Whom I am but the poorest of servants!” A deep sigh broke from him and he released her hand as suddenly as he had grasped it. “You have felt no ill effects from the treatment?” he then asked, in a matter-of-fact tone. “No,” she answered. “None at all--except----” “Except--what?” “Oh, well!--no very great matter! Only that I seem to have lost something out of myself--I have no interest in persons or events--no sympathy with human kind. It’s curious, isn’t it? I feel that I belong more to the atmosphere than to the earth, and that I love trees, grass, flowers, birds and what is called the world of Nature more than the world of men. Of course I always loved Nature,--but what was once a preference has now become a passion--and perhaps, when you’ve done with me, if I live, I shall go and be a sort of hermit in the woods, away altogether from ‘people.’ I don’t like flesh and blood!--there’s a kind of coarseness in it!” she concluded carelessly as she resumed her walk towards the hotel. He was puzzled and perplexed. He watched her as she moved, and noted, as he had done several times that evening, the exquisite lightness of her step. “Well, at any rate, you are not, physically speaking, any the worse for receiving my treatment once a fortnight?” he asked.