I SHUT the door and stood at the open window. Blackness. No spot of light, no twinge of movement marred the black of the world. I was tense with an expectancy. The black of the world was torture but I faced it. I knew the next step would bring me full within it: the blackness would speak. The night....
The bell of my telephone. There it was! A piercing channel to my ears, whereby the night would speak.
I took up the receiver. “Yes,” I said.
“Hold the wire.... Long distance.”
Faint buzzing, piercings of sound poured with the night into my ear.
“Hello.” “Yes.” “Doctor John Mark?” “Yes.” “Is this Doctor John Mark?” “Yes.”
“Please hold the wire, sir. Huntington, Long Island ... wishes to speak to Doctor Mark.”
“This is Huntington Hospital.”
“This is Doctor Mark.” I spoke to the night. “What is it?”
“This is Dr. John Mark?” A pause.