(Whispering.) Feda can't see his face.
(Then clearly.) He won't let Feda see his face; he is laughing.
(Whispered several times.) L, L, L.
(Then said out loud.) L. This is not his name; he puts it by you.
(Whispering again.) Feda knows him—Raymond.
Oh, it's Raymond!
(The medium here jumps about, and fidgets with her hands, just as a child would when pleased.)
That is why he would not show his face, because Feda would know him.
He is patting you on the shoulder hard. You can't feel it, but he thinks he is hitting you hard.
[It seems to have been a trick of his to pat a brother on the shoulder gradually harder and harder till humorous retaliation set in.]