I don't even look livery and I FEEL--"

I sat down. "Give me the potion," I said. "If the worst comes to
the worst it will save having my hair cut, and that I think is one
of the most hateful duties of a civilised man. How do you take the
mixture?"

"With water," said Gibberne, whacking down a carafe.

He stood up in front of his desk and regarded me in his easy chair;
his manner was suddenly affected by a touch of the Harley Street
specialist. "It's rum stuff, you know," he said.

I made a gesture with my hand.

"I must warn you in the first place as soon as you've got it down
to shut your eyes, and open them very cautiously in a minute or so's
time. One still sees. The sense of vision is a question of length
of vibration, and not of multitude of impacts; but there's a kind
of shock to the retina, a nasty giddy confusion just at the time,
if the eyes are open. Keep 'em shut."

"Shut," I said. "Good!"

"And the next thing is, keep still. Don't begin to whack about.
You may fetch something a nasty rap if you do. Remember you will
be going several thousand times faster than you ever did before,
heart, lungs, muscles, brain--everything--and you will hit hard
without knowing it. You won't know it, you know. You'll feel just
as you do now. Only everything in the world will seem to be going