Shelby, deeply interested, and looking innocently credulous, sat by while the medium conducted the séance.
Madame Parlato was, as Crane had asserted, a quiet-mannered, refined looking woman, of a gracious and pleasant personality. She was tall and fair, rather English in type, and spoke with a noticeable English accent. She frequently ended sentences of simple statement with a rising inflection and was addicted to the use of the word very, which she pronounced virry.
"You are a bit skeptical?" she said, with a careless glance at Shelby.
"Only by reason of lack of occasions for belief," he returned. "I am, however, open-minded and fair-minded enough to be willingly convinced. You may or may not know, this son of Mr. Crane's was one of my closest friends, and——"
"Don't advance information, please," she remonstrated, "lest I be thought to make use of it. I will ask you both to be quiet, whilst I compose myself."
"Hush up, Shelby," growled Crane, and Shelby did.
The medium closed her eyes and leaned back in her armchair.
She did not seem to be asleep, but she breathed heavily and a trifle irregularly, and now and then gave a slight convulsive shudder.
At last she spoke, very slowly, and in a voice decidedly different from her own. Shelby couldn't quite make up his mind whether it seemed to him like Peter's voice or not.
The voice said, "I am here, father," and, after a moment's pause, repeated the words.