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the thing—and banging that stick on the ground. That was the stick I saw."
"In Reeves' room?"
"Yes, by the side of his arm-chair. And—I didn't exactly see anything, you know, only it looked exactly as if Brotherhood himself were sitting in the chair, invisible, with his hand resting on the stick. I was just telling myself I was a fool, when—he breathed."
"Who did?"
"I don't know. There was nobody in the room—nobody visible, I mean. That was too much for me, I'm afraid. I went to my room and locked myself in. You see, I'm psychic, rather. Always have been, from a kid."
"And was that all your trouble?"
"No. I had half thought about seeing a man about it while I was up in London anyhow. And then, just as I was starting for the train, that beastly metaphone thing in my room whistled. So I went and said 'Who's speaking?'—and—I may be an awful fool, you know, but I thought the thing said 'It's Brotherhood.' And at that I fairly dropped the tube and raced for the train. Then in London I went to see this fool of a specialist, and of course he told me I'd been overdoing it."
Gordon's eyes twinkled. "You'd have saved yourself a couple of guineas at least," he said, "if you'd talked to me earlier."
"Oh! Why, what's the point?"