"I think I had better tell you, Mr. Baxter; it is more straightforward, though you will not like it. You will be surprised to hear that you talked very considerably during this hour and a half; and from all that you said I should suppose you were controlled by a spirit recently crossed over—a young girl who on being questioned gave the name of Amy Nugent—"
Laurie sprang to his feet, furious.
"You have been spying, sir. How dare you—"
"Sit down, Mr. Baxter, or you shall not hear a word more," rang out the imperious, unruffled voice. "Sit down this instant."
Laurie shot a look at the two ladies. Then he remembered himself. He sat down.
"I am not at all angry, Mr. Baxter," came the voice, suave and kindly again. "Your thought was very natural. But I think I can prove to you that you are mistaken."
Mr. Vincent glanced at Mrs. Stapleton with an almost imperceptible frown, then back at Laurie.
"Let me see, Mr. Baxter.... Is there anyone on earth besides yourself who knew that you had sat out, about ten days ago or so, under some yew trees in your garden at home, and thought of this young girl—that you—"
Laurie looked at him in dumb dismay; some little sound broke from his mouth.
"Well, is that enough, Mr. Baxter?"