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289
Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930
·
Various
216
"You
might
sit
down,
too,"
said
Bell
steadily.
"From
the
manner
of
The
Master,
I
imagine
that
the
conversation
will
take
some
time."
He
inhaled
deeply
of
his
cigarette,
and
faced
the
little
man
again.
And
The
Master
looked
so
benevolent
that
he
seemed
absolutely
cherubic,
and
there
was
absolutely
no
sign
of
anything
but
the
utmost
saintliness
about
him.
His
eyes
were
clear
and
mild.
His
complexion
was
fresh
and
translucent.
The
wrinkles
that
showed
upon
his
face
were
those
of
an
amiable
and
a
serene
soul
filled
with
benevolence
and
charity.
He
looked
like
one
of
those
irritatingly
optimistic
old
gentlemen
who
habitually
carry
small
coins
and
stray
bits
of
candy
in
their
pockets
for
such
small
children
as
they
may
converse
with
under
the
smiling
eyes
of
nurses.
"Ah,
Senor
Bell,"
he
said
gently.
"You
do
cause
me
to
admire
you.
May
I
see
your
hands
again?"
Bell
held
them
out.
He
seemed
to
have
conquered
their
writhing
to
some
extent.
But
he
could
not
hold
them
quite
still.
Sweat
stood
out
on
his
forehead.
He
thrust
them
abruptly
out
of
sight
again.
"Sad,"
said
The
Master
gently.
"Very
sad."
He
sighed
faintly
and
laid
down
the
rose
he
had
been
toying
with.
His
fingers
caressed
the
soft
petals
delicately.
"Fortunately,"
he
said
benevolently,
"it
is
not
yet
too
late
for
me
to
relieve
the
strain
under
which
you
labor,
Senor.
May
I
send
for
a
certain
medicine
which
will
dispose
of
those
symptoms
in
a
very
short
time?"
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