Dr. Hansen
proffered a chair.
"Thank you! Ah! Dr. Hansen! You are here--I had thought--This is
much better! I can see fairly well now. You came very near to
blinding me permanently! You didn't know. It's the transition."
Then: "And yet--of course! It's the moon! THE MOON!"
He stopped. There was a strange wistfulness in the last word. And
suddenly he rose to his feet. He turned in gladness, as though to
drink in the mellow flow of the radiance.
"The moon! Gentlemen--doctor--who are these people? This is the
house of the Blind Spot! And it is the moon--the good old earth!
And San Francisco!"
He stopped again. There was a bit of indecision and of wonder
mixed with his gladness. The stillness was only broken by the
scarcely audible voice of Mme. Le Fabre.
"Now we KNOW! It is proven. The sceptics have always asked why the
spirits work only in the half light. We know now."
Watson looked to Dr. Hansen. "Who is this lady? Who are these
others?"
"Can you see them?"
"Perfectly. It is the lady in the corner; she thinks--"
"That you are a spirit!"
Watson laughed. "I a spirit? Try me and see!"
"Certainly," asserted Mme. Le Fabre. "You are out of the Blind
Spot. I know; it will prove everything!"
"Ah, yes; the Spot." Watson hesitated. Again the indecision. There
was something latent that he could not recall; though conscious,
part of his mind was still in the apparent fog that lingers back
into slumber.
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