falls 16 feet in the first second. This glass is falling 16 feet in
a second now. Only, you see, it hasn't been falling yet for the
hundredth part of a second. That gives you some idea of the pace
of my Accelerator." And he waved his hand round and round, over and
under the slowly sinking glass. Finally, he took it by the bottom,
pulled it down, and placed it very carefully on the table. "Eh?"
he said to me, and laughed.

"That seems all right," I said, and began very gingerly to raise
myself from my chair. I felt perfectly well, very light and
comfortable, and quite confident in my mind. I was going fast all
over. My heart, for example, was beating a thousand times a second,
but that caused me no discomfort at all. I looked out of the window.
An immovable cyclist, head down and with a frozen puff of dust
behind his driving-wheel, scorched to overtake a galloping char-a-banc
that did not stir. I gaped in amazement at this incredible spectacle.
"Gibberne," I cried, "how long will this confounded stuff last?"

"Heaven knows!" he answered. "Last time I took it I went to bed
and slept it off. I tell you, I was frightened. It must have lasted
some minutes, I think--it seemed like hours. But after a bit it
slows down rather suddenly, I believe."

I was proud to observe that I did not feel frightened--I suppose
because there were two of us. "Why shouldn't we go out?" I asked.

"Why not?"

"They'll see us."