apologize for saying that I go to sleep instead of writing."
She picked up the other leaf.
"Yes, I apologize," she said, "though you were asleep when I came out. But I want to hear what you've written, so I apologize for having thought so. And there's this other page as well."
Archie took it from her.
"That doesn't belong," he said. "That"
He paused a moment.
"Do you remember what I told you about the messages I used to have from Martin when I was a child?" he asked.
Jessie nodded.
"Yes; and they have ceased altogether for years, haven't they?" she said quickly.
"Until to-day. Just now, half an hour ago, I had another. But I can't make anything out of it. He tells me that I've had a warning. I don't know what it means."
Jessie felt all the habitual contempt of the thoroughly normal and healthy mind for anything akin to psychical experiences. All ghosts, in her view, were to be classed under the headings of rats or lobster-salad; all such things as table-tappings and the doings of mediums under the heading of trickery. But, knowing what she did of Archie's childish experiences, she could not put them down as trickery, and so was unable exactly to despise them as fraudulent. For that very reason she rather feared them; they made her feel uncomfortable.
She glanced at the paper he held out to her, but without taking it.
"Oh, Archie, I distrust all that," she said. "I was really very glad when you told me that for all these years you had had no communication from him. Please don't have any more."
He laughed. They had talked about this before
