"I tell them to cut
it out. Now, the mind reading at the theatre," she sobbed,
"there's no harm in that, is there? And there's twice the money
in it. But this ghost raising" -- she raised her eyes
appealingly, as though begging to be contradicted -- "it's sure
to get him into trouble, isn't it?"
Winthrop shook his head, and smiled.
"It may," he said. Mrs. Vance broke into a fresh outburst of
tears. "I knew it," she cried, "I knew it." Winthrop placed
his hand upon her arm and turned her in the direction of
the door.
"Don't worry,:" he said soothingly. "Go send Miss Vera
here. And," he called after her, "don't worry."
As Mabel departed upon his errand, Rainey reentered from the
bedroom. He carefully closed the door and halted with his hand
upon the knob, and shook his head.
"It's no use," he said, "he will go on with it. It's not my
fault," he whined, "I told him it would kill him. I couldn't
make it any stronger than that, could I?"
Rainey was not looking at Winthrop, but, as though fearful of
interruption, toward the door. His eyes were harassed, furtive,
filled with miserable indecision. Many times before Winthrop had
seen men in such a state. He knew that for the sufferer it
foretold a physical break down, or that he would seek relief in
full confession. To give the man confidence, he abandoned his
attitude of suspicion.
"That certainly would be strong enough for me," he said
cheerfully. "Did you tell him what I advised?"
"Yes, yes," muttered Rainey impatiently.
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