"Oh, you're perfectly welcome," said Philip, hastily, with some embarrassment, while his strange visitor went on:
"I'm not crazy, only a little odd, you know. Perfectly harmless. It will be perfectly safe for you to keep me over night."
The man spread his thin hands out before the fire, while Philip sat and watched him with a certain fascination new to his interest in all sorts and conditions of men.
Mrs. Strong brought in a substantial lunch of cold meat, bread and butter, milk and fruit, and then placed it on a table in front of the open fire, where he and his remarkable guest ate like hungry men.
It was after this lunch had been eaten and the table removed that a scene occurred which would be incredible if its reality and truthfulness did not compel us to record it as a part of the life of Philip Strong. No one will wish to deny the power and significance of this event as it is unfolded in the movement of this story.
CHAPTER XI
"I heard your sermon this morning,' said Philip's guest while Mrs.
Strong was removing the small table to the dining-room.
"Did you?" asked Philip, because he could not think of anything wiser to say.
"Yes," said the strange visitor, simply. He was so silent after saying this one word that Philip did what he never was in the habit of doing. He always shrank back sensitively from asking for an opinion of his preaching from any one except his wife. But now he could not help saying:
"What did you think of it?"