would a ravening beast. I could not move them. Like an automaton I walked across the room to the
door. The doll-maker opened it.
There was an odd rustling noise from the cabinets. Stiffly, I turned my head.
The doll of Walters had fallen forward. It lay half over the edge. Its arms swung, as though imploring me
to take it away. I could see in its palms the marks of the crucifying nails. Its eyes were fixed on mine-
"Go!" said the doll-maker. "And remember!"
With the same stiff motion I walked through the corridor and into the shop. The girl watched me, with
vague, fear-filled eyes. As though a hand were behind me, pressing me inexorably on, I passed through
the shop and out of its door into the street.
I seemed to hear, did hear, the mocking evil-sweet laughter of the doll-maker!