I confess that my nerves gave way at that point, and I
fled from the room."
"Locking the door after you?"
"No; but I came back and locked it ten or fifteen minutes later."
"Did you enter the room?"
"Yes; I had left the light burning and entered to turn it off. I found
on the desk another note beginning, 'My dear wife.'"
"And then what?"
"I was here the next night and the next. There was something about it
that fascinated me, and I saw that there was no reason for fear. In
the end it came to seem almost natural--almost as if he were here in
the flesh."
"And always the same things happened?"
"Yes, or nearly so, the writing growing more legible all the time."
"And then?"
"Then, three nights ago, I grew brave enough to go and stand by the
desk, and look over his shoulder, as it were, while he wrote the note
which I showed you this morning."
"You mean that he actually did write it while you were looking over
his shoulder?"
"I mean that the words formed themselves on the sheet of paper under
my eyes, precisely as they flowed off his pen."
"And there wasn't any pen?"
"There wasn't anything. Only the ashes and the odor of tobacco."
I glanced across at Mrs. Magnus sharply. Could it be possible that she
was inventing all of this incredible tale?
"No," she said, answering my thought; "it happened precisely as I tell
it. I am hoping that you will see for yourself before long. It is
almost time for him to come."
I felt the hair crawling up my scalp as I glanced around again at the
desk.
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