Sana recalled to mind some of the risque situations she had found herself in upon waking from the trances, induced by her lover. The memories caused her to pause an instant, then raising her hands she cried, “No, no!” The doctor seemed to comprehend the thoughts that were surging through her mind, and he interrupted with, “You need have no fear. Your friend, Mrs. O’Brien is here and the experiment may be of benefit to both you and your fiancé.” Her reply to the man’s kindly remonstration showed how easily he had dispelled her fears. “Yes, perhaps it will be better so.” Sana reclined restfully back within the cushioned chair and the doctor bent over her. With his hands he made a few passes before her face, with a steady look of intensity he performed the preliminaries of the hypnotist. His piercing glance held her gaze. His eyes seemed fairly to devour hers. Soon her eyes dimmed and slowly commenced to close. Her mind was giving way to his dominating will. Slowly the girl’s eyes closed entirely, the muscles of her body relaxed and her mind sought another plane. Dr. White straightened up and turning to Mrs. O’Brien said softly, “She is gone.” The doctor drew his chair close to and directly in front of Sana. In a clear voice that seemed more to make itself felt rather than heard, he propounded his queries. “What does your fiancé, François de Rochelle, do when you are under his hypnotic influence?” Slowly came the answer, “He teaches me some dance steps and also makes love to me.” “Do you really love him?” “Well, I would do anything to please him, but----” “But what?” “I did not love him before we were engaged.” “How did that happen?” No answer forthcoming, Dr. White commanded sharply, “Come, come, answer me.” Sana responded with “I did not care for him enough. One evening while at dinner with him in a private dining-room of a famous Parisian restaurant he hypnotized me, and directed me to love him and prepare for our marriage. From then on I began to love him, and when he was sure of my affection he disclosed to me the secret of why I loved him. But I did not mind, for my love was already deep rooted.” “Are you wealthy? Did you inherit much money?” “No. Just a few thousands.” “Is your life insured?” “Yes, for $50,000.” “Who will get this money in case you die?” “François.” “Is de Rochelle’s life insured likewise?” “Yes, for $10,000.” Then like a bolt of lightning came the question, “Did de Rochelle ever direct you to commit suicide by leaping from the Queensborough Bridge?” Sana shivered slightly. Her entire body seemed to shrink as she reached forth her arms and groped blindly in the empty air. “Answer me!” The doctor fairly hissed the words. In a tone scarce above a whisper came the delayed reply, “François forbade me to speak on this subject, should I ever be in a trance induced by any other than himself. I will not--I cannot answer that question. I will not!”