It was the face of Amy
Nugent that was looking at him, grave and steady--as when he had seen
it in the moonlight above the sluice--and behind, seen half through
the strange drapery, and half apart from it, a couple of feet behind,
the face of the sleeping medium.
At that sight he had not moved nor spoken, it was enough that the fact
was there. Every power he possessed was concentrated in the one effort
of observation....
He heard from somewhere a gasping sigh, and there rose up between him
and the face the figure of the clergyman, with his head turned back
staring at the apparition, and one hand only on the table, yet with
that hand so heavy upon it that the whole table shuddered with his
shudder.
There was a movement on the left, and he heard a fierce feminine
whisper--
"Sit down, sir; sit down this instant...."
When the clergyman had again sunk down into his seat with that same
strong shudder, the luminous face was already incoherent; the features
had relapsed again into blots and shadows, the drapery was absorbing
itself upwards into the center from which it came. Once more the
nebula trembled, moved backwards, and disappeared. The next instant
the radiance went out, as if turned off by a switch.
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