It was no proof of anything more. There
remained the rapping and what the medium had called his "appearance"
during the sleep; but of all this he had read before in books. Why
should he be convinced any more now than he had been previously?
Besides, it was surely doubtful, was it not, whether the rapping, if
it had really taken place, might not be the normal cracks and sounds
of woodwork, intensified in the attention of the listeners? or if it
was more than this, was there any proof that it might not be produced
in some way by the intense will-power of some living person present?
This was surely conceivable--more conceivable, that is, than any other
hypothesis.... Besides, what had it all got to do with Amy?
Within a week of his original experience, skepticism was dominant.
These lines of thought did their work by incessant repetition. The
normal life he lived, the large, businesslike face of the lawyer whom
he faced day by day, a theatre or two, a couple of dinners--even the
noise of London streets and the appearance of workaday persons--all
these gradually reassured him.
When therefore he received a nervous little note from Lady Laura,
reminding him of the _seance_ to be held in Baker Street, and begging
his attendance, he wrote a most proper letter back again, thanking her
for her kindness, but saying that he had come to the conclusion that
this kind of thing was not good for him or his work, and begging her
to make his excuses to Mr.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124