The atmosphere is perfect for our hoax and several of us who are "in the know" feel sort of creepy as we wait for the next flash. I prime myself for the bit of acting.
The flash comes, and with it I let forth a horrible shriek, then stand up, stiffen, and fall flat on my face. I think I did it rather well, and I am not sure but that others beside Tom were frightened.
Tom drops his whisky glass and exclaims: "My God! It's happened!" and his voice is sober. But no one pays any attention to him.
They all rush to me and I am carried feet first into the bedroom, and the door closed on poor old Tom, who is trying to follow me in. Tom just paces the floor, waiting for some one to come from the bedroom and tell him what has happened. He knocks on the door several times, but no one will let him in.
My "property grin."
Finally, Carl Robinson comes out of the room, looking seriously intent, and Tom rushes to him.
"For God's sake, Carl, what's wrong?"
Carl brushes him aside and makes for the telephone.