“Rap!” said the table.
“That is No. It is not for Captain Saltonhall,” said Miss Latimer drowsily and, drowsily, she took up the alphabet. The table, uninterrupted by any comment, spelled out the word, “Beside.”
“Beside. How odd,” said Antonia.
It was very wearisome. Already they seemed to have sat there for hours. His fear had not returned; but curiosity no longer consciously sustained him. An insufferable languor, rather, fell upon him and fumes of sleep seemed to coil heavily about his eyelids. He wished he could have a cigarette. He wished the thing would go more quickly and be over.
“T,H,E,” had been spelled out and Antonia had reported “the.” Miss Latimer’s drugged voice had taken up the alphabet again and the table had rapped at “F.”
Now the word demanded nearly the whole alphabet for the finding of its letters. “O” came. Then “U.”
Antonia sat still. Her eyes were fixed, strangely, devouringly, upon Miss Latimer, whose head, drooping forward, seemed that of a swooning person. “F,O,U,N,T,” she spelt.
Not till then did it flash upon him, and it came from Antonia’s face rather than from the half-forgotten phrase.
He sprang up, stumbling, nearly falling, catching at Antonia’s shoulder to right himself. “Stop the damned thing!” he exclaimed, and he lifted her hands. “It’s quoting you!”
Miss Latimer’s hands slid into her lap. She sat as if profoundly asleep.