Dr. Levillier found himself the prey of such fancies after
his interview with Mrs. Wilson. He had prescribed for her. He had very
carefully considered what way of life would be likely to restore her
to health, and to banish the demons which had brought her strength and
unusual self-reliance so low. He had received her gratitude, and had
dismissed her to the following of his plans for her benefit. All this
he had done with calm deliberation, the very cheerful composure which
he always practiced towards the victims of nervous complaints. But even
while he did this his own mind was in a turmoil. For this woman had let
fall statements with regard to her dead husband which most curiously
bolstered up Cuckoo's fantastic assertion that Valentine and Marr were
the same man. Marr had been cruel to animals, to dogs, had evidently
taken a keen enjoyment in torturing them, and on hearing Valentine's
voice she had turned pale and declared that it was the voice of her
husband. Then her strange declaration about her husband's use of music
as a mode of cruelty! These circumstances appealed powerfully to the
doctor's mind, or at least to that unscientific side of it which inclined
him to romance, and to a certain sympathy with the mysteries of the
world.
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