“What can they do?”

“Do?  Do you suppose any jury is going to take enough expert testimony to outweigh the tragedy of a beautiful woman?  Do?  Why, they can ruin me, even if I get a verdict of acquittal.  They can leave me with a reputation for carelessness that no mere court decision can ever overcome.”

“Gregory, you can rely on me,” said Kennedy.  “Anything I can do to help you I will gladly do.  Jameson and I were on the point of going out to dinner.  Join us, and after that we will go down to your office and talk things over.”

“You are really too kind,” murmured the doctor.  The air of relief that was written on his face was pathetically eloquent.

“Now not a word about the case till we have had dinner,” commanded Craig.  “I see very plainly that you have been worrying about the blow for a long time.  Well, it has fallen.  The neat thing to do is to look over the situation and see where we stand.”

Dinner over, we rode down-town in the subway, and Gregory ushered us into an office-building on Madison Avenue, where he had a very handsome suite of several rooms.  We sat own in his waiting-room to discuss the affair.

“It is indeed a very tragic case,” began Kennedy, “almost more tragic than if the victim had been killed outright.  Mrs. Huntington Close is—­or rather I suppose I should say was—­one of the famous beauties of the city.  From what the paper says, her beauty has been hopelessly ruined by this dermatitis, which, I understand, Doctor, is practically incurable.”

Dr. Gregory nodded, and I could not help following his eyes as he looked at his own rough and scarred hands.

“Also,” continued Craig, with his eyes half closed and his finger-tips together, as if, he were taking a mental inventory of the facts in the case, “her nerves are so shattered that she will be years in recovering, if she ever recovers.”

“Yes,” said the doctor simply.  “I myself, for instance, am subject to the most unexpected attacks of neuritis.  But, of course, I am under the influence of the rays fifty or sixty times a day, while she had only a few treatments at intervals of many days.”

“Now, on the other hand,” resumed Craig, “I know you, Gregory, very well.  Only the other day, before any of this came out, you told me the whole story with your fears as to the outcome.  I know that that lawyer of Close’s has been keeping this thing hanging over your head for a long time.  And I also know that you are one of the most careful X-ray operators in the city.  If this suit goes against you, one of the most brilliant men of science in America will be ruined.  Now, having said this much, let me ask you to describe just exactly what treatments you gave Mrs. Close.”

The doctor led us into his X-ray room adjoining.  A number of X-ray tubes were neatly put away in a great glass case, and at one end of the room was an operating-table with an X-ray apparatus suspended over it.  A glance at the room showed that Kennedy’s praise was not exaggerated.