The stranger only said—
“He comes this way.”
He did, moving towards us across the room with an awkward method of progression, which curiously recalled the movements of a crab. He advanced to within three feet of where we were. Had I chosen I might have reached out and touched him with my hand.
“He is gone!”
It seems absurd to write it, but he was, and from before our eyes.
“The door has closed!”
It had, with a sullen bang. Where the man had gone to or who had closed the door were problems which at the moment I did not attempt to solve. The stranger drew himself up straight. There was a ring of triumph in his tone.
“Was it a delusion? Ami mad?”
A minute before I should have been prepared to say he was. Then I was more than half inclined to think that we, both of us, were mad togethe
