"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just can't help it. I'll have to relax now."
"You'll have to what? Are you—"
I broke off and goggled. The young man had completely disappeared. My forehead was suddenly damp with nervous perspiration. I closed my eyes and forced myself to think calmly. This was some trick of my imagination. I'd been working too hard. My nerves were shot. I'd have to take a rest.
I opened my eyes cautiously. The room was empty. I drew a relieved breath.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you," a familiar voice said apologetically. "But, you see, I can't help it."
I stood up warily and peered about the room.
"Where are you?" I whispered.
"Right here in front of you."
"If you're a mahout for pink elephants, I don't want to see you," I said. "Go away."
"Please," the young man's voice was plaintive, "I need your advice. I'm in trouble."