After dinner, while the ladies were in the drawing-room and the men were smoking their cigars, the perturbed youth expected to be freed from any further inquisition, for Philo Wood was apparently of that type of man who has no interest in the things he cannot turn into hard cash. The merits of a new strawboard box-machine was engaging his attention at this time, but, after a few minutes of polite discussion of the weather and other general topics, Carew, the lawyer, turned to Victor and began an interrogation which made him wince. Carew was very nice about it, but he pursued such a well-defined line of inquiry that it amounted to a cross-examination. He soon possessed himself of the fact that Victor did not approve of his mother's way of life and that he was trying to secure employment in order to stop all further "fortune-telling" on his mother's part. "I don't believe in it," he reiterated. "The amazing thing to me," interposed Wood, with quiet emphasis, "is that her predictions come true. I 'play the ponies' a bit"--he smiled--"and I have tried to draw Mrs. Ollnee into partnership with me. 'You have the spooks point out the winning horse to me,' said I to her, 'and I'll share the pot with you.'" "And she wouldn't do it?" asked Carew. Wood seemed to be highly amused. "No, she says her guides do not sanction gambling of any sort. And yet she advises Louise to buy into a new transportation scheme that looks to me like the worst kind of a gamble. My advice counts for nothing against these Voices." "That's true," admitted Carew. "You might as well be the west wind so far as influencing her goes. Since 'Mr. Astor' butted into the game my services are good only in so far as they drive tandem with his! Now you say you have no belief in the thing," he said, turning again to Victor. "How is that? How did that come about?" "Well, in the first place, I've given some study to what Professor Boyden calls delusional hysteria," Victor responded. Wood smiled cynically. "My sister won't mind what you call it so long as it enables your mother to designate the winning stocks." The attitude of each of these men was that of watchful tolerance, and Victor chafed under their assumption of superior wisdom. He plainly perceived that Wood was using the psychic for his own ends, and this angered him. He shut up like a clam and left the room as soon as he could decently do so. He made his way to where Leonora was sitting on a sofa in the library and took his seat beside her, with intent to continue the conversation which they had begun at the dinner, but he forgot his problems as he looked into her merry, candid eyes. Her first word was a compliment to his mother. "How pretty she looks to-night! No one would suspect her of being 'the dark and subtle siren' of yesterday's _Star_. Her face is positively angelic at this moment. How beautiful she must have been as a girl! I must say you do not resemble her." "Thank you," he said.