"Number 14 Tinkers Street."
After this a number of other spirits purported to come, one of whom said he was the son of a sitter in the circle, and that he had been killed in the war.
"Will you reveal yourself?" said the medium.
Some phosphorous light shone in the darkness, in the radiance of which was the outline of a face.
"Do you recognise it?" asked the medium.
"It might be Jack," Dick heard a voice say.
After this there seemed to be a quarrel among the spirits. There was a good deal of confused talk and a certain amount of anger expressed. Also a number of feeble jokes were passed and far-away laughter heard. Evidently the spirits were in a frolicsome humour.
Dick, whose purpose in coming to the séance was not to take part in a fiasco, grew impatient. In his state of mind he felt he had wasted both money and time. It was true he had seen and heard what he could not explain, but it amounted to nothing. Everything seemed silly beyond words. There was nothing convincing in anything, and it was all artificial.
"I should like to ask a question," he ventured at length.
"Go ahead," said a voice, which seemed to come from the ceiling.