Payot looked at him in astonishment, wondering what he referred to, and turned to Villebois for an explanation.
"Oh, don't pay any attention to Marcel. I think at times he does not know himself what he means. You see," he added, "poets are quite different from ordinary mortals like us."
"That is why they require a licence, I suppose," said Riche. "We only hesitate to believe him when he is speaking the truth."
"You are very unkind to rob a poor poet of his character," said Marcel.
"Impossible in your case," said Riche laughing. "You have none to lose."
"Upon my soul, you will be trying to rob me of my shadow next."
"Then we shall begin to believe you without the shadow of a doubt."
"Well, gentlemen, what do you say to our all going to bed?" asked Villebois. "Good-night, Monsieur Payot, and may fortune smile on to-morrow's séance. And now, my dear professor," he continued, turning to Delapine, "I am sure that you will need a good rest before you start your task of calling up the spirits from the vasty deep."
"Upon my word, I am almost afraid to go to bed," said Marcel, as they passed upstairs to their rooms which were next to each other. "I shall be dreaming of ghosts and goblins all night, and imagining that I see the portraits walking out of their frames."