This remark prodded me with a sharp misgiving.
If he was unsubstantial, how was I going to kill him? But I dissembled, and said persuasively:
“Conscience, it isn't sociable of you to keep at such a distance. Come down and take another smoke.”
This was answered with a look that was full of derision, and with this observation added:
“Come where you can get at me and kill me? The invitation is declined with thanks.”
“All right,” said I to myself; “so it seems a spirit can be killed, after all; there will be one spirit lacking in this world, presently, or I lose my guess.” Then I said aloud:
“Friend—”
“There; wait a bit. I am not your friend. I am your enemy; I am not your equal, I am your master, Call me 'my lord,' if you please. You are too familiar.”
“I don't like such titles. I am willing to call you, sir. That is as far as—”
“We will have no argument about this. Just obey, that is all. Go on with your chatter.”