"He has tried to," said the professor, rather grimly.
"And you didn't encourage him?"
"When do I encourage clergymen to talk about psychical research?"
Malling could not help smiling.
"I have some reason—at least I believe so—to suppose that Harding and his curate Chichester have been making some experiments in directions not entirely unknown to us," he observed. "And what is more"—he paused—"what is more," he continued, "I am inclined to think that those experiments may have been crowned with a success they little understand."
Down went the professor's fists, his head was poked forward in Malling's direction, and his small eyes glittered almost like those of a glutton who sees a feast spread before him.
"The experiments of two clergymen in psychical research crowned with success!" he barked out.
"If so, I shall see what I can do in the pulpit—the Abbey pulpit!"
He got up, and walking slightly sidewise, with his hands hanging, and his fingers opening and shutting, went over to a chair close to Malling's.
"Get on!" he said.