He had kept his word. I did know that he knew who and what I was….
I cannot tell whether my lips actually shaped the question that even in that moment burst from me.
"But Form—and Forms? It is then true that all things are but aspects of One thing?…"
"Yes—in death," the voice seemed to reply.
My next words, I know, were actually spoken aloud.
"Then tell me—tell me—do you not wish me to write it?"
Suddenly I leapt out of my chair with a gulping cry. A voice had spoken….
"Of course we wish you to write it…."
For one instant of time my vision seemed to fold on itself like smoke; then it was gone. The face into which I was wildly staring was Maschka's, and behind her stood Schofield. They had been announced, but I had heard nothing of it.
"Were you thinking of not writing it?" she demanded, while Schofield scowled at me.