I thanked him for his perfectly open declaration, and then I left. That he was the greatest living authority on the symptoms and effect of the mysterious drug orosin I felt confident. I only longed that he would take Gabrielle beneath his charge and endeavour to restore her brain to its normal function.
Punctually at three o'clock next day I called with my beloved and her mother at the house embowered in roses and geraniums up on the hill above the broad Rhône river.
We were ushered in by an old man-servant, silent and stately.
The Professor quickly appeared, his sharp eyes upon the patient.
"I wonder if you will allow me, Madame, to take your daughter into my consulting-room alone?" he asked in good English. "It will be best for me to question her without any other person being present."
"Most certainly," Mrs. Tennison replied. Then, turning to Gabrielle, she said: "The Professor wants to put a few questions to you, dear. Will you go with him into the next room?"
Gabrielle, pale-faced and tragic, looked at me strangely, and then meekly followed the old Professor into his consulting-room.
The door was closed, and Mrs. Tennison waited with me in silence. The window of the room was open and through it came the sweet scent of the roses and climbing jasmine, with the buzz of the summer insects and the chatter of the birds, for the house was high up on that hill above the great silk-weaving capital of the Rhône.
I rose and looked out upon the garden, so well ordered, for the Professor was, it seemed, a lover of roses, the blossoms running riot everywhere.
Suddenly, as we remained in silence, we heard Gabrielle's voice raised until she shouted fierce defiant words in English:
"No!" she shrieked. "It was not that--not that! You try and fix upon me a deed that I did not do! Why should you do this--why should you do this!"
"Pardon, Mademoiselle," we heard the Professor say in a quiet, calm tone. "Pardon. Please! I do not allege it. I have only asked a simple question."
"Your question is insulting, doctor!" declared my beloved loudly. "Why should you insinuate such a thing?"
"Mademoiselle, I insinuate nothing," replied the Professor. "I am endeavouring to ascertain the exact state of your mental balance. Your anger is, in itself, a most gratifying feature. A thousand pardons if you feel that I have insulted you," he added with the extreme politeness of his race.