"But the exact time of your coming was
somewhat indefinite. Still, I am displeased with myself, much
displeased. You slept well, I trust?"
The professor was understood to say that he had slept well.
Dr. Farr sighed. "Youth!" he murmured, waving his umbrella. "Oh,
youth!"
"Quite so," said the professor. There was a dryness in his tone not
calculated to encourage rhapsody. The old gentleman's gurgle changed
to a note of practical helpfulness.
"You wish to bathe, I see. I will not detain you. Our sylvan
bathroom you will find just down the trail and behind those alders.
Pray take your time. You will be quite undisturbed."
With another dry "Thank you," the professor passed on. He was
limping slightly, otherwise he would have passed on much faster. His
instinct was to seek cover before giving vent to the emotion which
consumed him.
Behind the alders, and taking the precaution of stuffing his mouth
with a towel, he could release this rising gust of almost hysterical
laughter.
That was Dr. Herbert Farr! The fulfilled vision of the learned
scholar he had come so far to see capped with nicety the climax of
this absurd adventure. What an utter fool, what an unbelievable
idiot he had made of himself! For the moment he saw clear and all
normal reactions proved inadequate. There was left only laughter.
When this was over he felt better. Withdrawing the towel and wiping
the tears of strangled mirth from his eyes he looked around him.
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