Von Blon stared at him incredulously. Then he forced a laugh.
"My mental reaction? I'd know my liver was out of order, and that I was having hallucinations."
"And if you knew your liver was functioning perfectly—then what?"
"I'd immediately become a devout believer in miracles."
Vance smiled pleasantly.
"I sincerely hope it won't come to that. And yet so-called therapeutic miracles have happened."
"I'll admit that medical history is filled with what the uninitiated call miraculous cures. But there is sound pathology beneath all of them. In Mrs. Greene's case, however, I can see no loophole for error. If she should move her legs, it would contravert all the known laws of physiology."
"By the by, doctor"—Vance put the question abruptly—"are you familiar with Brügelmann's 'Über hysterische Dämmerzustände'?"
"No—I can't say that I am."
"Or with Schwarzwald's 'Über Hystero-Paralyse und Somnambulismus'?"
Von Blon hesitated, and his eyes were focussed intently like those of a man who is thinking rapidly.
"I know Schwarzwald, of course," he answered. "But I'm ignorant of the particular work you mention. . . ." Slowly a look of amazement dawned on his face. "Good heavens! You're not trying to connect the subjects of these books with Mrs. Greene's condition, are you?"
"If I were to tell you that both of these books are in the Greene mansion, what would you say?"
