Muller did not insist upon an answer.  “You are uneasy and nervous sometimes, aren’t you?”

“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 gray varnish with tiny little yellow stripes painted on it.  Towards the lower point a little bit of the varnish had been broken off and the reddish wood underneath was visible.  The top was much better constructed than the cheap toys sold in the village.  It was hollow and contained in its interior a mechanism started by a pressure on the upper end.  Once set in motion the little top spun about the room for some time.

“Oh, isn’t that pretty!  Is this mechanism your own invention?” asked Muller smiling.  Gyuri watched the top with drawn brows and murmured something about “childish foolishness.”

“Yes, it is my own invention,” said the patient, flattered.  He started out on an absolutely technical explanation of the mechanism of tops in general and of his own in particular, an explanation so lucid and so well put that no one would have believed the man who was speaking was not in possession of the full powers of his mind.

Muller listened very attentively with unfeigned interest.