During the afternoon he left his hotel and made his way towards the house where the spiritualistic séance was to be held. In spite of all his dreams of social reforms, and the appeal made to his own ambitions, his mind constantly reverted to the vision which had again come to him—to the influences he could not understand.
He found the house, and was admitted without difficulty. It was in a commonplace, shabby-looking street not far from Tottenham Court Road. On his arrival he was admitted into a room, where an absurd attempt had been made to give it an Oriental appearance. An old woman occupied the only arm-chair in the room. She looked up at his entrance, stared at him for a few seconds, and then muttered indistinctly. He was followed by half a dozen others who might have been habitués of the place.
Presently a man entered, who glanced inquiringly around the room. He appeared to be about fifty years of age, and had light watery-looking eyes. He made his way to Dick.
"You desire to be present at the séance?" he asked of Dick.
"If I may?" was Dick's reply.
"You come as a sincere, earnest, reverent inquirer?"
"I hope so."
"Is there any friend you have lost, any message you want to receive?" and he scrutinised Dick closely.
"At a time like this, we have all lost friends," Dick replied.
"Ah, then you come as an inquirer?"