‘Atherton, you—you take me at an advantage.’ I was still. ‘Who—who’s your Oriental friend?’
‘My Oriental friend?—you mean yours. I supposed, at first, that the individual in question was a man; but it appears that she’s a woman.’
‘A woman?—Oh.—How do you mean?’
‘Well, the face is a man’s—of an uncommonly disagreeable type, of which the powers forbid that there are many!—and the voice is a man’s,—also of a kind!—but the body, as, last night, I chanced to discover, is a woman’s.’
‘That sounds very odd.’ He closed his eyes. I could see that his cheeks were clammy. ‘Do you—do you believe in witchcraft?’
‘That depends.’
‘Have you heard of Obi?’
‘I have.’
‘I have been told that an Obeah man can put a spell upon a person which compels a person to see whatever he—the Obeah man—may please. Do you think that’s possible?’
‘It is not a question to which I should be disposed to answer either yes or no.’