“Because you should not distrust us.”
“But why not encourage me to trust you by remembering that difference of plane in the first place?” I insisted. “Why be so explicit about things you know may be inaccurately stated?”
“I do not deceive you intentionally. We feel that a thing certain of accomplishment is done, and are frequently misled into premature statements by the strength of intention, or purpose, or movement in a given direction. We are accurate from our point of view, and not always able to gauge yours.”
Admitting this to be conceivable, I said: “Now tell me about Mr. Farrow.”
“Mr. Farrow is here with us. When Cass gets to the office in the morning he will find the truth.” Again the signature was hesitating and indefinite, first Maynard, then Mary K. I felt that neither of them wrote it, but could not reconcile the frequent constructive statements, urging faith and continuance of this work, to destructive purpose, nor could I understand why, if Mary K. and Maynard were present, they did not warn me of false statements by malign forces, provided such were the case.
Monday morning, the situation was unchanged, save that the statements were slightly elaborated. Repeatedly I asked whether they were not confusing Mr. Farrow with some other member of his family, or whether they had accepted serious illness as death.
A curious statement followed this suggestion, under Maynard’s signature. “Farrow is both here and there. He is here in essence, there in body.... He is both here and there for some time after death.”
Immediately afterward, however, when I said that this sounded preposterous, Mary K.’s name was written, with: “Mr. Farrow is here. He is dead to you. Actually now dead. Go to L—— at once.”
“I can’t go to L——, with affairs in this state,” I told her.