"I wish you wouldn't talk as though we were a collection of fowls," Charles complained. "Provided I am supplied with a comfortable chair I don't mind lending what I feel sure will be powerful assistance."
Celia looked at him suspiciously. "If that means that you're going to fool about…'
"Hush!" said her husband reprovingly. "For all you know I may be a strong medium. In fact I shouldn't be surprised if I went into a trance. Time will be as nothing to me. All the secrets of the future will be revealed to me."
"Yes, dear, quite possibly you are a natural medium," Mrs. Bosanquet said. "But when people come out of trances they don't remember anything that happened to them while they were in the trance. At least, so I have always understood."
"In that case," said Charles, "I charge you all the instant you see me fall into a trance to ask me what's going to win the 3.20 to-morrow. And see you write down the answer."
"If you go into a trance," said Peter, "that isn't the only thing we'll ask you. There are lots of things about your past I've long wanted to know."
Mrs. Bosanquet was arranging chairs round a small table. "That will do, my dear," she said. "You know it is no use approaching this in a spirit of levity. Now let us all take our places round the table, and then I'll turn the light down."
Celia was already showing a tendency to cling to Charles' hand. "Not right out, Aunt!" she implored.
"No, I will leave just a glimmer. I don't think we need draw the curtains, do you, Margaret? There doesn't seem to be any moon to-night. And it will make the room so stuffy. Now, are you all ready?"
"Wait a moment!" Celia begged. "Charles, you've got to sit by me!"