Valentine carried the little dog away. When he came back he shut the
tentroom door and was about to draw the curtain over it. But Julian
stopped him.

"No, don't," Julian said.

"Why not?"

"I would rather you didn't. I hate that curtain. If I were you I would
have it taken down altogether."

Valentine looked at him in surprise. He had uttered the words with an
energy almost violent. But even as Valentine looked Julian switched off
the electric light and the leaping darkness hid his face.

"Come now. Business! Business!" he cried.

And again they sat with their hands loosely on the table, not touching
each other.

Valentine felt that Julian was being less frank with him than usual.
Perhaps for this reason he was immediately conscious that they were
not so much in sympathy as on the two former occasions of their sittings.
Or there might have been some other reason which he could not identify.
It is certain that he gradually became acutely aware of a stifling sense
of constraint, which he believed to be greatly intensified by the
surrounding darkness and silence. He wondered if Julian was conscious
of it also, and at moments longed to ask. But something held him back,
that curious something which we all feel at times like a strong hand
laid upon us. He made up his mind that this discomfort of his soul,