S. CHAPTER XXVII. Goopes, who had at first been a little reserved, resorted presently to the Socratic method to restrain the young man with the orange tie, and bent his forehead over him, and brought out at last very clearly from him that the body was only illusion and everything nothing but just spirit and molecules of thought. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. Moments are ages now. My vengeance is completely gratified. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. Wood, softening her asperity.
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