'Ah, then,' said Herbert, lagging along the bookshelves, and
scanning the book-backs with eyes partially closed: he turned
with lifted teapot, and refilled his visitor's cup; 'then,
wherever you are--I mean,' he added, cutting up a little cake
into six neat slices, 'wherever the chance inmate of the room
happens to be, he comes straight for you, at a quite alarming
velocity, and fades, vanishes, melts, or, as it were, silts
inside.'

Lawford listened in a curious hush that had suddenly fallen over
his mind. '"Fades inside? silts?"--I'm awfully stupid, but what on
earth do you mean?' The room had slowly emptied itself of daylight;
its own darkness, it seemed, had met that of the narrowing night,
and Herbert deliberately lit a cigarette before replying. His clear
pale face, with its smooth outline and thin mouth and rather long
dark eyes, turned with a kind of serene good-humour towards his
questioner.

'Why,' he said, 'I mean frankly just that. Besides, it's Grisel's
own phrase; and an old nurse we used to have said much the same.
He comes, or IT comes towards you, first just walking, then with
a kind of gradually accelerated slide or glide, and sweeps
straight into you,' he tapped his chest, 'me, whoever it may be
is here. In a kind of panic, I suppose, to hide, or perhaps
simply to get back again.'

'Get back where?'

'Be resumed, as it were, via you. You see, I suppose he is