Chapter 43

She ended. Saxham had kept his keen blue eyes steadily upon her during the eloquent recital. Not a hair of his black brows had twitched, not a muscle of his pale face had moved--betraying his urgent inclination to smile. His fine hand, lying upon the blotter near the small black case-book, might have been carved out of ancient Spanish ivory, or yellow-white lava. Now he said: "There is nothing new nor marvellous about the 'Dreams' method. It is--persistent narcosis obtained from the subcutaneous injections of …