"There he is," came the sound of Memphis' voice, "just as I left him." "Is that good, doctor?" This time it was Julie's voice, anxious and fearful. "I really couldn't say, Mrs. Pillsworth. Maybe. Maybe not." The doctor's voice was a solemn one with sonorous, church-like overtones. "Well, I'll leave you two with him," Memphis said. "I hope everything will be all right." "Thanks so much for calling me," Julie returned. As the door closed with a snap, Marc struggled valiantly against a driving impulse to open his eyes ... one of them at least ... just a little. "Smell the liquor, doctor?" Julie was saying. "This sort of thing has never happened before. I just don't understand it. If what Miss McGuire tells me is true, he's been behaving like a regular hoodlum." "Sometimes," the doctor replied, "they just snap all of a sudden. There's no telling what sets them off at all. It might be anything." The footsteps came closer and Marc felt a hand on his shoulder. It shook him gently. "Wake up, dear," Julie's voice cooed. "It's Julie." * * * * * Marc opened his eyes and looked up guiltily. Julie's anxious face was just above his own, smiling a tragic little smile. And just beyond her shoulder there was also the face of a man, studious and intelligent in a musty, smug sort of way. Marc disliked it on sight. "Do you feel very awful?" Julie asked. Marc nodded. "Yes, dear," he murmured wanly. "Terrible." Her hand patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Well, everything's going to be all right," she said. "I've brought Dr. Polk to see you. He wants to talk to you." Marc's thoughts raced wildly as he boosted himself into a sitting position. He glanced nervously at the chair across the room and the door behind which Toffee was dressing. The situation, he felt, was almost too atomic to be endured. It might explode at any minute if he didn't get Julie and the doctor out of there. He regarded the doctor with mistrust. "I don't want to talk to him," he said peevishly. "I won't." Undismayed, the doctor calmly sat down on the edge of the lounge. "You mustn't feel that way, Mr. Pillsworth," he said soothingly. "We're going to be great friends, you and I." "Want to bet?" Marc scowled. He turned to Julie. "What kind of quack is this guy, anyway?" "Dr. Polk is a ... a...." "I'm a psychiatrist," the doctor broke in. "You're suffering from a nervous disorder, Mr. Pillsworth, and I'm here to help you." Marc's eyes widened with astonishment. They thought he was nuts! What was he...! His mind leaped to other things as the hissing noise from George's chair suddenly increased in volume. They were bound to notice it in a moment.