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Benson, Robert Hugh, 1871-1914

"The Necromancers"

... Look here ... I didn't tell you half the other
day. The fact is, that I was just as much in love with this girl
as--as a man could be. She died; and now--"
"Look here, what were you up to last Sunday?"
Laurie quieted a little.
"You wouldn't understand," he said.
"Have you done any more of that business?"
"What business?"
"Well--thinking you saw her--All right, seeing her, if you like."
The boy shook his head.
"No. Vincent's away in Ireland. We've been going on other lines."
"Tell me; I swear I won't laugh."
"All right; I don't care if you do.... Well, automatic handwriting."
"What's that?"
Laurie hesitated.
"Well, I go into trance, you see, and--"
"Good Lord, what next?"
"And then this girl writes through my hand," said Laurie deliberately,
"when I'm unconscious. See?"
"I see you're a damned young fool," said Morton seriously.
"But if it's all rot, as you think?"
"Of course it's all rot! Do you think I believe for one instant--" He
broke off. "And so's a nervous breakdown all rot, isn't it, and D.T.?
They aren't real snakes, you know."
Laurie smiled in a superior manner.
"And you're getting yourself absorbed in all this--"
Laurie looked at him with a sudden flash of fanaticism.


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