the ball. He removed the tube from his lips and said with a curious absence of gesture, almost in the manner of one who communes with the unseen, "I appreciate your difficulty, Mr. Hartz. But in these little matters, things are not always as they appear."
This speech, delicately suave though it was, yet stung the visitor to words of his own. "What little matters?" he asked, with a sense of irritation that he knew to be illogical.
"When busy men seek me out," was the answer, "they desire guidance, as a rule, in things beyond their ken . . . things which have suddenly, unexpectedly, even terribly obtruded themselves upon their daily lives."
Curtly, Saul Hartz agreed. This cunning quack was fishing for a clue to the business which had brought him there.
"You are under no obligation to take me into your confidence." The voice was charming. "There was no compulsion for you to come here at all. And now you are here, you deplore your boldness. The dilemma is quite intelligible. One even sympathizes with it. But there is a short way out, if you will but consent to take it."
"Very glad, if you'll find one for me," said Hartz, in a voice that was half a growl.
"Nothing simpler. Smoke one of my cigarettes and I guarantee that your path shall grow magically clearer."
