to know the outcome of the Skeptic's tactics. I waited a long time, as
it seemed to me. Then, without warning, a voice spoke. I could hardly
recognize it for the Skeptic's voice, it was strung so tense--with joy.

"Don't shoot," it said. "We'll come down."

I looked toward the end of the porch, where the vines cast a deep
shadow. I could not see them, but they must have been there all the
time. And the shadow cast by the vines was not a wide shadow at all.




PART II




I

DAHLIA AND THE PROFESSOR

Amen
Stuck in my throat.
--_Macbeth._


The Skeptic and his wife, Hepatica, being happily established in a
beautifully spacious flat in town, measuring thirty feet by forty over
all, invited me to visit them. As both had spent considerable time at my