From moment to moment he tore minute pieces from the blotter, or drew imaginary circles and arabesques on his pad with an inkless pen.
"Perhaps I could help you, after all--if you'd let me try," he said quietly.
"Dou you mean--_me_ ?" asked Burke, without raising his head.
"If you like--yes, you--or any man in trouble--in perplexity--in the uncertain deductions which arise from an attempt at self-analysis." "It is true; I am trying to analyze myself.

I believe that I don't know how.

All has been mere impulse--so far.

No, I don't know how to analyze it all." "I do," said the Tracer.
Burke raised his level, unbelieving eyes.
"You are in love," said the Tracer.
After a long time Burke looked up again.

"Do you think so ?" "Yes.