The ticking of the clock suddenly sounded louder and louder. The breathing of the nine men seated there got louder. I could hear my own heart going like a turbine in my chest. Now we waited for Marsten to speak. He glanced at me, motioned to me. I got up and went over to the table. His eyes were dark and bright. "Collect the cards will you please, Max, and give them to me?" I did that. I didn't want to give them to him. I had a crazy idea of running out of there with the cards. Then it would be my fault that Marsten had failed. I didn't believe in Marsten then. I wanted to. I'd worked with him, knew his greatness, his integrity and sincerity. I knew he might be emotionally unstable. I wanted to believe, but I wasn't convinced at all. Man is ever credulous in the wrong place, at the wrong time, about the wrong things. We swallow the emotional screamings of demagogues, reject the quiet discoveries of great men who only do not know the techniques of salesmanship, of propaganda. But I put the cards on the table beside Marsten. Then, as he picked them up I began to feel differently. I don't know why. Perhaps his bravery, his courage and tenacity, his faith in his own beliefs, overwhelmed me suddenly. I was with him then. Somehow, all at once, I _knew_ he was right. Suddenly I had all the old confidence and trust in his genius that I had had years before when I'd worked with him so closely. The silence in the room then was paralyzing, a thick binding tension. The nine professors stood up as if sitting now was untenable. Professors of English literature, Biology, Astronomy, Music, Medicine, Psychiatry, History, Physical Education, Religion. They stood there waiting for Marsten to check their written thoughts on the cards. Marsten spread them out like a hand of bridge and looked at them. His muscles jerked once, as from a galvanic reflex, like a man suddenly touched with a high-tension wire. He cried out, as from deep and wracking mental pain. The sound hit into the room's silence like metal into flesh. He dropped the cards abruptly and they spilled over the table. He stared at the floor between the table and the nine men facing him. His voice sounded far away, muffled. "Gentlemen, I've--failed. I've--failed--miserably!" He swayed. I ran around the table and caught him to stop his falling. His muscles quivered under my hands. He pushed me away. His eyes were hot and a little wild. Then he stood up straight, like an old soldier at bay. "I'm sorry you have had your valuable time imposed upon so inexcusably. No need--no need now, I assure you, even to open the sealed envelope. I missed--missed in every case except that of Professor Adler. My success with him I attribute entirely to chance." He took a step backward and whispered, "Goodnight, gentlemen. Goodnight and--goodbye."