“Yes, sir, I have been—nervous—lately.”      

       “And they don’t let you go out at such times?”      

       “Why, I—no, I may not go out at such times.”      

       “But the doctor takes you with him sometimes—the doctor or Gyuri?”        asked the detective.     

       “Yes.”      

       “I haven’t had him out with me for weeks,” interrupted the attendant. He seemed particularly anxious to have the “for weeks” clearly heard by this inconvenient questioner.     

       Muller dropped this subject and took up another. “They tell me you are very fond of children, and I can see that you are making toys for them here.”      

       “Yes, I love children, and I am so glad they are not afraid of me.” These words were spoken with more warmth and greater interest than anything the man had yet said.     

       “And they tell me that you take gifts with you for the children every time you go down to the village. This is pretty work here, and it must be a pleasant diversion for you.” Muller had taken up a dainty little spinning-wheel which was almost completed. “Isn’t it made from the wood of a red yew tree?”      

       “Yes, the doctor gave me a whole tree that had been cut down in the park.”      

       “And that gave you wood for a long time?”      

       “Yes, indeed; I have been making toys from it for months.” Varna had become quite eager and interested as he handed his visitor a number of pretty trifles. The two had risen from their chairs and were leaning over the wide window seat which served as a store-house for the wares turned out by the busy workman. They were toys, mostly, all sorts of little pots and plates, dolls’ furniture, balls of various sizes, miniature bowling pins, and tops. Muller took up one of the latter.     

       “How very clever you are, and how industrious,” he exclaimed, sitting down again and turning the top in his hands. It was covered with grey varnish with tiny little yellow 

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