Rosythe pushed open a door, and I saw before me a spacious parlor,
with birds of paradise of the female sex lounging in upholstered
chairs. I was led to a vast plush sofa, and sank into it with a sigh
of relief.

The stranger stood beside me, and put his hand on my head once more.
It was truly a miracle, how the whirling and roaring ceased, and
peace came back to me; it must have shown in my face, for the moving
picture critic of the Western City "Times" stood watching me with a
quizzical smile playing over his face. I could read his thoughts, as
well as if he had uttered them: "Regular Svengali stuff, by God!"



VIII


I was so comfortable there, I did not care what happened. I closed
my eyes for a while; then I opened them and gazed lazily about the
place. I noted that all the birds of paradise were watching
Carpenter. With one accord their heads had turned, and their eyes
were riveted upon him. I found myself thinking. "This man will make
a hit with the ladies!" Like the swamis, with their soft brown
skins, and their large, dark, cow-like eyes!

There had been silence in the place. But suddenly we all heard a
moan; I felt Carpenter start, and his hand left my head. A dozen
doors gave into this big parlor--all of them closed. We perceived
that the sound came through the door nearest to us. "What is it?" I
asked, of Rosythe.