silence was broken by the Professor mumbling once more mechanically with eyes staring before him his opening sentence—
"The hope of a life beyond the grave"
The young man had looked up and had seen the Professor's face! The Professor had seen the sudden recognition in the young man's eyes!
That day he read no more. With a curious unformed cry, such as a hunted animal will give when it is too suddenly roused from its retreat, he snatched his papers up, stumbled down the three steps of the platform, bolted through the curtain and the door—and was off!
He was off, racing through the little ante-room, he was flying down the stone staircase three steps at a time. The Subliminal Self was out on holiday; it was working top-notch, and Lord! how it drove the man!
In the room thus abruptly abandoned by its principal figure there was confusion and not a little of that subdued delight with which the rich always hail some break in the monotony of their lives.
Most of the men were standing up, the less bulky of the ladies had followed their example, perhaps a hundred people were talking at once, when, not thirty seconds after the
