Here Hobart came in.
"Just a minute, Chick. My wise friend here is an attorney. He's
always the first into everything, especially conversation. It's
been my job pulling Harry out of trouble. Just one question."
"All right."
"Didn't you--er--keep company, as they say, with Bertha Holcomb
while at college?"
A kind look came into the man's eyes; he nodded; his whole face
was soft and saddened.
"I see. That naturally brought you to the Blind Spot. You are
after her father. Am I correct?"
"Exactly."
"All right. Perhaps Bertha has taken you into some of her father's
secrets. He undoubtedly had data on this Blind Spot. Have you ever
been able to locate it?"
"No!"
"I see. This Rhamda? Has he ever sought that data?"
"Many, many times."
"Does he know you haven't got it?"
"No."
"So. I understand. You hold the whip hand through your ignorance.
Rhamda is your villain--and perhaps this Nervina? Who is she?"
"A goddess."
Hobart smiled.
"Oh, yes!" He laughed. "A goddess. Naturally! They all are. There
are about forty in this room at the present moment, my dear
fellow. Watch them dance!"
Now I had picked up the ring. It just fitted the natural finger. I
tried it on and looked into the jewel. The professor was growing
dimmer. The marvellous blue was returning, a hue of fascination;
not the hot flash of the diamond, but the frozen light of the
iceberg.
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