"That is why God gave men moustaches," she mused, in a low voice; "to
hide the cruel corners of their mouths."
"Not ALWAYS cruel," I cried.
"Sometimes cruel, sometimes cunning, sometimes sensuous; but nine times
out of ten best masked by moustaches."
"You have a bad opinion of our sex!" I exclaimed.
"Providence knew best," she answered. "IT gave you moustaches. That was
in order that we women might be spared from always seeing you as you
are. Besides, I said 'Nine times out of ten.' There are exceptions--SUCH
exceptions!"
On second thought, I did not feel sure that I could quarrel with her
estimate.
The experiment was that time once more successful. Sebastian woke up
from the comatose state after eight hours, not quite as fresh as Hilda
Wade, perhaps, but still tolerably alive; less alert, however, and
complaining of dull headache. He was not hungry. Hilda Wade shook her
head at that. "It will be of use only in a very few cases," she said to
me, regretfully; "and those few will need to be carefully picked by
an acute observer. I see resistance to the coma is, even more than
I thought, a matter of temperament. Why, so impassioned a man as
the Professor himself cannot entirely recover.
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