Again they sat in silence, and after some minutes the fumbling began again and the horn was heard scraping slowly about, as if being lifted with effort only to fall back with a clang.
"Is it too heavy?" asked Clarke.
Three sharp raps replied—an angry "yes"—and then, with a petulant swing, the instrument apparently left the table and floated upon the air. In deep amazement Morton listened for some movement, some sound from Viola, but there was none, not a breath, not a rustle of motion where she sat, and the silk thread was tight and calm. "She has nothing to do with that," he said, beneath his breath.
Kate called excitedly, "Oh! It touched me."
"What touched you?" asked Weissmann.
"The horn."
"No, it seemed to float against me."
Morton spoke out sharply: "Where is Mr. Clarke?"
"Right here on my right," replied Kate.