(I asked if she had seen Raymond lately.)
Oh yes, Raymond's here.
He came to help Feda with the lady and gentleman—on Monday, Feda thinks it was. Not quite sure when. But there was a lady and gentleman, and he came to help; and Feda said, "Go away, Raymond!" He said, "No, I've come to stay." He wouldn't go away, and he did help them through with their boy.
[The reference here is to a sitting which a colleague of mine, Professor and Mrs. Sonnenschein, had had, unknown to me, with Mrs. Leonard. I learnt afterwards that the arrangements had been made by them in a carefully anonymous manner, the correspondence being conducted via a friend in Darlington; so that they were only known to Mrs. Leonard as "a lady and gentleman from Darlington." They had reported to me that their son Christopher had sent good and evidential messages, and that Raymond had turned up to help. It was quite appropriate for Raymond to take an interest in them and bring their son, since Christopher Sonnenschein had been an engineering fellow-student with Raymond at Birmingham. But there was no earthly reason, so far as Mrs. Leonard's knowledge was concerned, for him to put in an appearance; and indeed Feda at first told him to 'Go away,' until he explained that he had come to help. Hence the mention of Raymond, under the circumstances, was evidential.]
He's only been once to help beside this, and then he said, Don't tell the lady he was helping. [See below.]
He's been with Paulie to-day, to Paulie's mother's. He says he's been at Paulie's house, but not with Mrs. Kathie, with another lady, a medie, Feda thinks. She was older than this one; a new one to him.[27] He wanted to speak through her, but he found it was difficult. Paul manages it all right, he says, but he finds it difficult. He says he started to get through, and then he didn't feel like himself. It's awful strange when one tries to control anybody. He wanted to very bad; he almost had them. (Sotto voce.—What you mean, Yaymond?) He says he thought he almost had them. He means he nearly got through. Oh, he says, he's not given it up; he's going to try again. What worries him is that he doesn't feel like himself. You know, father, I might be anybody. He says, Do you believe that in that way, practice makes perfect?
O. J. L.—Yes, I'm sure it gets easier with practice.
Oh, then he'll practise dozens of times, if he thinks it will be any good.
O. J. L.—Did he like the old woman?