"My son's belief, sir, is my belief in this thing as in other things. I have heard what he has been saying to you. It is for me that he sacrifices himself by holding these exhibitions; it is in my poor interests that his hardly-earned money is made. I am in infirm health; and, remonstrate as I may, my son persists in providing for me, not the bare comforts only, but even the luxuries of life. Whatever I may suffer, I have my compensation;I can still thank God for giving me the greatest happiness that a woman can enjoy, the possession of a good son."She smiled fondly as she looked at the sleeping man. "Draw your chair nearer to him," she resumed, "and take his hand. You may speak freely in ****** your inquiries. Nothing that happens in this room goes out of it."With those words she returned to her place, in the corner behind her son's chair.
The visitor took Doctor Lagarde's hand. As they touched each other, he was conscious of a faintly-titillating sensation in his own hand--a sensation which oddly reminded him of bygone experiments with an electrical machine, in the days when he was a boy at school!