during those strange days. I had built up for myself a universe
upheld by certain laws, of day and night, of food and sleep and
movement, of three dimensions of space. And now, it seemed to me,
I had stood all my life but on the threshold, and, for an hour or
so, the door had opened.

Sperry had, I believe, told Herbert Robinson of what we had
discovered, but nothing had been said to the women. I knew through
my wife that they were wildly curious, and the night of the second
seance Mrs. Dane drew me aside and I saw that she suspected, without
knowing, that we had been endeavoring to check up our revelations
with the facts.

"I want you to promise me one thing," she said. "I'll not bother
you now. But I'm an old woman, with not much more of life to be
influenced by any disclosures. When this thing is over, and you
have come to a conclusion--I'll not put it that way: you may not
come to a conclusion--but when it is over, I want you to tell me
the whole story. Will you?"

I promised that I would.

Miss Jeremy did not come to dinner. She never ate before a seance.
And although we tried to keep the conversational ball floating
airily, there was not the usual effervescence of the Neighborhood
Club dinners. One and all, we were waiting, we knew not for what.

I am sorry to record that there were no physical phenomena of any
sort at this second seance. The room was arranged as it had been
at the first sitting, except that a table with a candle and a chair