"Yes," I answered, "I saw him. Most people did. Is he invisible?
Is he really the phantom they say?"

Somehow the mention of the name made him nervous; he looked
cautiously about the room.

"That I don't know, Harry. It--If I can only get my wits together.
Is he a phantom? Yes, I think so. I can't understand him. At
least, he has the powers we attribute to an apparition. He is
strange and unaccountable. Sometimes you see him, sometimes you
don't. The first known of him was on the day Professor Holcomb was
to deliver his lecture on the Blind Spot. He was tracked, you
know, to the very act. Then came in the Nervina."

"And who is the Nervina?"

Watson looked at me blankly.

"The Nervina?" he asked, "The Nervina--what do you know about the
Nervina?"

"Nothing. You mentioned her just now."

His mind seemed to ramble. He looked about the room rather
fearfully. Perhaps he was afraid.

"Did I mention her? I don't know, Harry, my wits are muddled. The
Nervina? She is a goddess. Never was and never will be woman. She
loves; she never hates, and still again she does not love. She is
beautiful; too beautiful for man. I've quit trying."