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"The Blind Spot"

Isn't it true that you
yourself are already getting used to that ring?"
"Ye--es," reluctantly. "That is, partly. If only it were someone
other than Harry!"
"Of course," I hurried to say, "I only wanted to make it clear
that we haven't any witchcraft to deal with. This whole mystery
will become plain as day, and that damned soon!"
"You've got a theory?"--hopefully.
"Several; that's the trouble!" I had to admit. "I don't know which
is best to follow out.--It may be a spiritualistic thing after
all. Or it may fall under the head of 'abnormal psychology'.
Nothing but hallucinations, in other words."
"Oh, that won't do!"--evidently distressed. "I know what I saw!
I'd doubt my reason if I thought I'd only fancied it!"
"So would I. Well, laying aside the spiritualistic theory, there
remains the possibility of some hitherto undiscovered scientific
secret. And if the Rhamda is in possession of it, then the matter
simmers down to a plain case of villainy."
"But how does he do it?"
"That's the whole question. However, I'm sure of this"--I was
fingering the ring as I spoke. The reproduction of our friends had
faded, now, leaving that dully glowing pale blue light once more.
"This ring is absolutely real; it's no hallucination. It performs
as well in broad daylight as in the night; no special conditions
needed. It's neither a fraud nor an illusion.


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