He got to his feet, and to my amazement began to pall off his coat. He dropped it at his feet and proceeded further to haul his shirt-tails out of his high-waisted trousers. Then, with trembling fingers, he struck a match and held it over his head. He had on a kind of smock or cassock that came clear down to his bony knees. To the waist it was literally patched with little pockets, and every pocket was stuffed with rich black dirt out of which rose the leaves and stems of seedling plants in various stages of maturity. Some were no more than green buttons and some were well leafed out. Some were flourishing vines, that wound affectionately around his arms and his scrawny neck, and thrust tender tendrils down inside his celluloid collar. If that was the way he went about, no wonder the town thought he was crazy! He said nothing. He went down the steps and around through the yard to the greenhouse, and I followed. He unlocked the door and opened it, and I was stifled by a blast of tropical heat and fragrance that sent me winging back to Madagascar and the girl in the hotel. He stalked down the long aisle of the greenhouse, and I was right at his heels. He lighted lamp after lamp, and as the place filled with light my jaw began to drop, until I must have looked like a candidate for the booby-hatch myself. It was incredible! The place was full of Zulu roses of every size and description. There were thousands of them--all different--and they filled the greenhouse with a riot of fragrance and rich color that made my head spin. Then I saw something that sent cold fingers diddling along my spine, for as Melchizedek Hobbs walked down the aisle between the banks of plants their gaudy blossoms turned on their stems to follow him, their leaves and stalks stretched out to touch him, and a soft, expectant rustle went up from thousands of straining fibres. He stopped at a second closed door. "These are the breeding beds and nurseries," he told me. "You are, of course, aware that reproduction in the Zulu rose is bi-sexual and that it does not take place until maturity. There were no male plants among those you sent me, but we have a number of them now." He opened the door. The greenhouse was L-shaped, and we stepped into a kind of vestibule at the angle. A new perfume flooded into my lungs. I felt my heart pounding, the blood rushing through my veins. I sucked the infernal stuff into my lungs and knew that I was breathing faster, my nostrils dilated, my eyes bright. I remembered a neat pair of ankles I had glimpsed from the cab on Fifth Avenue. I remembered the curve of a dark cheek--the quirk of a pair of soft red lips--the sidelong glance of black eyes. The stuff was an aphrodisiac of the most violent sort, and I saw the color come to Melchizedek Hobbs' pale cheeks and his nose twitching with emotion. He reached up and patted his toupee into place.