He was gone longer than he intended; it was seven or eight minutes before he returned, whistling through his teeth. He turned into the front room and stopped in astonishment.
Madam Spoll was standing beside the machine, which had now run down. Her eyes stared blankly at the desk, one hand clutched her breast, the other was raised, as if to put something away from her. Her little low-crowned Derby hat had fallen partly off and hung on one side of her head. She stared, without speaking, her face set with an expression of terror.
"For Heaven's sake, Gert, what's the matter?" he cried.
She turned her eyes slowly toward him, shuddered, sighed, and her hands fell together. Then her face lighted up in a frenzy. "My God, Vixley, I got it! I got it! After all these years!"
"Got what, you crazy fool? The jimjams?"
"I got materializing—I got a spirit! She was right over there by the desk—a woman with white hair, it was, and she give me a message!"
"Rats!" Vixley was contemptuous. He took her hand and gave her a little shake. "Is that all? I guess you was hypnotized, Gert, that's all. That's what I got this jigger for, only I never thought you'd be one to go off half-cock like that!"
"Vixley," she said emphatically, "don't you be a fool! I see a spirit for the first time in my life, and you can't make me believe I didn't. And I know who it was, now. It was Felicia Grant, as I'm a sinner, and she came to warn me about Payson. Oh, you can laugh; I s'pose I would if I was you, but this was the real thing, sure!"
She reseated herself on the sofa and put her hands to her eyes. Vixley sat on the arm of the Morris chair and laughed loudly. "Well, well!" he exclaimed, "if that ain't a good one! Spirit, was it? Well, I guess if it'll work on Gertie Spoll it'll work on Payson, all right. Oh, Lord!"
She shook both hands wildly, almost hysterical with excitement, the tears flowing. "My God! We can't go on with Payson now. I don't dare to. I'm frightened."