The darkness where the picture tube had been writhed and swirled as he dove into it and vanished.
"Whew!" Miss Twilley said shakily. "That was an experience!"
She walked unsteadily toward the T.V. set. "I'd better turn this off just in case he gets an idea of coming back. Trust a devil! Hardly!" Her hand touched the switch and hesitated. "But perhaps he was telling the truth," she murmured doubtfully. "Maybe I'd better leave it on." She smiled wryly. "Anyway—it's insurance."
"Miss Twilley," the doctor said slowly, "can you take a shock?"
"I've done it before. What's the matter? Don't tell me that I have an adenocarcinoma of the pancreas that'll kill me in six months."
The doctor eyed her with startled surprise. "We haven't pinpointed the primary site, but the tests are positive. You do have an adenocarcinoma, and it has involved so many organs that we cannot operate. You have about six months left to live."
"My God!" Miss Twilley gasped. "He was telling the truth!"
"Who was telling—" the doctor began. But he was talking to empty air. Miss Twilley had run from the office. The doctor sighed and shrugged. Probably he shouldn't have told her. One never can tell how these things will work out. She had the diagnosis right and she looked like a pretty hard customer. But she certainly didn't act like one.