You're some sort of a fiend that has managed to
attach itself to Nick, and you're not human. That's what I think!" "Think what you please," said the other. "We're wasting time here," he
said abruptly. "Come." "Where?" Pat was startled; she felt a recurrence of fright. "No matter where. Come." "I won't! Why do you want me?" "To complete the business of Saturday night," he said. "Your lips have
healed; they bleed no longer, but that is easy to remedy. Come." "I won't!" exclaimed the girl in sudden panic. "I won't!" She moved as
if to rise. "You forget," intoned the being beside her. "You forget the authority
vested in me by virtue of this love of yours. Let me convince you." He
stretched forth a thin hand. "Move and you condemn your sweetheart to
the punishment you threaten me." He seized her arm, pinching the flesh brutally, his nails breaking the
smooth skin. Pat felt her face turn ashy pale; she closed her eyes
and bit her nearly-healed lips at the excruciating pain, but she made
not the slightest sound nor the faintest movement. She simply sat and
suffered. "You see!" sneered the other, releasing her. "Thank my kindly nature
that I marked your arm instead of your face. Shall we go?" A scarcely audible whimper of pain came from the girl's lips. She sat
palled and unmoving, with her eyes still closed. "No," she murmured faintly at last. "No. I won't go with you." "Shall I drag you?" "Yes. Drag me if you dare." His hand closed on her wrist; she felt herself jerked violently to her
feet, so roughly that it wrenched her shoulder. A startled, frightened
little cry broke from her lips, and then she closed them firmly at the
sight of several by-passers turning curious eyes on them. "I'll come," she murmured. The glimmering of an idea had risen in her
chaotic mind. She followed him in grim, bitter silence across the clipped turf to the
limit of the park. She recognized Nick's modest automobile standing
in the line of cars along the street; her companion, or captor, moved
directly towards it, opened the door and clambered in without a single
backward glance. He turned about and watched her as she paused with
one diminutive foot on the running board, and rubbed her hand over her
aching arm. "Get in!" he ordered coldly. She made no move. "I want to know where you intend to take me." "It doesn't matter. To a place where we can complete that unfinished
experiment of ours. Aren't you happy at the prospect?" "Do you think," she said unsteadily, "that I'd consent to that even to
save Nick from disgrace and punishment? Do you think I'm fool enough
for that?" "We'll soon see." He extended his hand. "Scream--fight--struggle!" he
jeered. "Call them down on your sweetheart!" He had closed his hand on her wrist; she jerked it convulsively from
his grasp. "I'll bargain with you!" she gasped. She needed a moment's respite to
clarify a thought that had been growing in her mind. "Bargain? What have you to offer?" "As much as you!" "Ah, but I have a threat--the threat to your sweetheart! And I'm
offering too the lure of that evil whose face so charmed you recently. Have you forgotten how nearly I won you to the worship of that
principle? Have you forgotten the ecstasy of that pain?" His terrible, blood-shot eyes were approaching her face; and strangely,
the girl felt a curious recurrence of that illogical desire to yield
that had swept over her on that disastrous night of Saturday. There
_had_ been an ecstasy; there _had_ been a wild, ungodly, unhallowed
pleasure in his blows, in the searing pain of his kisses on her
lacerated lips. She realized vaguely that she was staring blankly,
dazedly, into the red eyes, and that somewhere within her, some insane
brain-cells were urging her to clamber to the seat beside him. She tore her eyes away. She rubbed her bruised shoulder, and the pain
of her own touch restored her vanishing logical faculties. She returned
her gaze to the face of the other, meeting his gaze now coolly. "Nick!" she said earnestly, as if calling him from a distance. "Nick!" There was, she fancied, the faintest gleam of concern apparent in the
features opposite her. She continued. "Nick!" she repeated. "You can hear me, Honey. Come to the house as
soon as you are able. Come tonight, or any time; I'll wait until you
do. You'll come, Honey; you must!" She backed away from the car; the other made no move to halt her. She
circled the vehicle and dashed recklessly across the street. From the
safety of the opposite walk she glanced back; the red-eyed visage was
regarding her steadily through the glass of the window. 21

A Question of Synapses


Pat almost ran the few blocks to her home. She hastened along in a near
panic, regardless of the glances of pedestrians she chanced to pass. With the disappearance of the immediate urge, the composure for which
she had struggled had deserted her, and she felt shaken, terrified,
and weak. Her arm ached miserably, and her wrenched shoulder pained at
each movement. It was not until she attained her own door-step that she
paused, panting and quivering, to consider the events of the evening. "I can't stand any more of this!" she muttered wretchedly to herself. "I'll just have to give up, I guess; I can't pit myself another time
against--that thing." She leaned wearily against the railing of the porch, rubbing her
injured arm. "Dr. Carl was right," she thought. "Nick was right; it's dangerous. There was a moment there at the end when he--or it--almost had me. I'm
frightened," she admitted. "Lord only knows what might have happened
had I been a little weaker. If the Lord _does_ know," she added. She found her latch-key and entered the house. Only a dim light burned
in the hall; her mother, of course, was at the Club, and the maid and
Magda were far away in their chambers on the third floor. She tossed
her wrap on a chair, switched on a brighter light, and examined the
painful spot on her arm, a red mark already beginning to turn a nasty
blue, with two tiny specks of drying blood. She shuddered, and trudged
wearily up the stairs to her room. The empty silence of the house oppressed her. She wanted human
companionship--safe, trustworthy, friendly company, anyone to distract
her thoughts from the eerie, disturbing direction they were taking. She was still in somewhat of a panic, and suppressed with difficulty a
desire to peep fearfully under the bed. "Coward!" she chided herself. "You knew what to expect." Suddenly the recollection of her parting words recurred to her. She
had told Nick--if Nick had indeed heard--to come to the house, to come
at once, tonight, if he could. A tremor of apprehension ran through
her. Suppose he came; suppose he came as her own Nick, and she admitted
him, and then--or suppose that other came, and managed by some trick to
enter, or suppose that unholy fascination of his prevailed on her--she
shivered, and brushed her hand distractedly across her eyes. "I can't stand it!" she moaned.