The door hadn't quite closed. Now, as Frank Corson turned, he found it open. A man stood there—a man in a blue suit with empty eyes.
Frank stared at the man for long seconds. His eyes went toward the window. Rhoda had turned. She was watching the man in the doorway, looking past Frank at the creature from somewhere in space who was neither man nor machine. But how—? Frank Corson asked himself the question. Good God! How had this thing come about?
"Not—not him," he finally exploded.
Rhoda was walking forward. The look of fevered excitement was in her eyes. "Please leave, Frank." She did not look at him as she spoke. She kept her eyes on the man in the blue suit.
"Not him!"
"Please leave, Frank."
But it was too late. The door had closed. The man was looking at Frank. "Sit down," he said.
Frank Corson sat down. He saw the man and he saw Rhoda, but they seemed unimportant. Something had happened to his mind and he was busy struggling with it. That was all that was important.
The strange lethargy that came like a cloud over his mind was beyond understanding.