the imagination and the will both react on one another. We are desirous of exchanging souls or perhaps I should say personalities for the word 'soul' at best is a rather ambiguous term suited mostly to the art of poets. You must let your gaze rest intently on the crystal ball, you must will to make the exchange, and you must let your imagination make you believe that the exchange has been effected. I will do the same thing and if we can make our desires coincide perfectly at the exact moment through the medium of the crystal ball, what we desire will assuredly come to pass. It is written that a man can have what he wishes if he wants it sufficiently enough."
He ceased speaking and we both
focused our gaze intently on the
crystal ball. The room was in utter silence.
It was in the back of the house
and so no discordant sound from the
street shattered the solitude which was
so intense it seemed to hang about the
room in folds. And the far corners of
the room seemed to be enveloped in curtains
of velvet black. No object was
discernible, except that queer little
crystal globule which shimmered fantastically
in the fire-glow, seeming to scintillate
with a dozen different prismatic
colors. And now as we sat staring at it,
it suddenly commenced to glow with a
strange blue light. All the other tones
of color faded. Evidently the fire in the
grate had burned low and only a bit of
blue flame remained. And yet the color
of the crystal ball increased steadily, the
light intensified. It was almost blinding.
It blurred my vision. Everything grew
hazy as though I were enveloped in a
fog. The silence was as cold as death.
I seemed to be losing consciousness. Then
steadily the crystal ball came back into
focus again, my vision cleared. The blue
flame had died out and again the scintillating
colors returned. It was a most odd
experience but odder still was the realization
that I was gazing at the crystal
ball from the other side of the table. It
was as though I had changed my seat.
With a cry of surprise, I jumped to my
feet for I knew that I had not moved
since I had seated myself at the table.
As I rose I knocked over the table, and
the crystal ball crashed to the ground
and was shattered into a thousand glittering
pieces.
Visrain quickly switched on the lights.
"What have you done?" he fairly shrieked. "Now we are engulfed in a frightful calamity. We can never again get back our own personalities."
As I looked up into his eyes, my blood turned cold for I was gazing into my own face. The experiment had proven successful.
I scarcely know how to set down the events that followed. There is so much that I would like to write, so much I wish to record and yet it is hard to set down the things which have an important bearing on my particular case.
For a while that night Visrain and I raved about that room as though we were mad. We cursed and raved as though we had ceased to be human. Often we hear folks envying each other, expressing a desire to be in someone else's place. Now that peculiar position had been vouchsafed to me and I found little of pleasure in it. I longed to be in my own body again. The body at best is but a shell in which we live but it is the shell by which we are known, the tangible thing by which our friends recognize us. Probably the day will eventually come when men will cease to form opinions and impressions from exteriors.
After we had raved about the room for an hour or perhaps it was longer for neither of us had any thought of time, we sat down beside the open-fire again and tried to sanely reason out the strange problem with which we were confronted. We had changed bodies, I say 'we' advisedly because the real man lives inside each one of us. The smug hypocritical smile and the exaggerated burst of assumed enthusiasm are not the earmarks of a real person. Visrain's soul and personality were within my body but nevertheless he was still Visrain. After we had talked and argued and theorized for a great while, we finally decided that we would change houses voluntarily even as we had changed bodies. This would mechanically prevent people from talking and besides we would not be inconvenienced in the slightest because we could visit back and forth as often as we desired. It was thus that I found myself in the peculiar position of living next door to myself. Luckily both Visrain and I lived alone so there was no one to complicate matters. Although that is not strictly true, for Visrain had a Japanese servant named Koto who was the very acme of perfection. He seemed to anticipate his master's every want and it was a source of keen enjoyment to be waited on by him.
My nearest living relative dwelt in San Francisco, an aunt with whom I never corresponded. She was as interested in me as though I did not exist at all and as for myself, I heartly reciprocated the compliment. I was not anxious to build up a friendship with the eccentric old lady because I realized that by so doing I might be bothered with visits from her and this I wished to avoid. At best I have but little patience and can only tolerate people with whom I have much in common.
Such a person was Vera Gray, an
artist who lived in Greenwich Village
and earned a splendid living drawing
cover designs for the national magazines.
Vera was a girl in a million, a deep
thinker and at the same time more beautiful
than any of the models who posed
for her. She had skin like old ivory and
the olive tone to her complexion, together
with her wondrous taste in dress,
made of her a most alluring girl. She
was tall and slim and her white hands
were the most graceful and expressive I
have ever beheld. They made almost a
symphony in loveliness. I suppose I am
writing rather madly and yet I assure
you I am sane enough. I have recently
been examined by three alienists and
while they admit that I am somewhat
queer, they have unanimously stated that
my mentality is far above the average.
But I am getting ahead of my story. It
is hard when writing a narrative of this
sort to keep the sequence of events in
their proper order.
Although I hated to mention Vera Gray to Visrain I knew that I had to do so for if I had disappeared entirely she would have immediately raised an alarm and publicity more than anything else we desired to avoid.
"You must call on Vera Gray," I told Visrain, "and I think it might be wise for me to accompany you. That will help to lessen the chances of your making a bad blunder. Talk very little and consult me whenever the opportunity presents itself. At this interview we must be extremely careful."
A few evenings later we visited Vera Gray. Luck was with us for there were several other persons in her apartment and one young fellow in particular, Gordon Harris, wished to do all the talking. He went into ecstasies over Vera's paintings and had something to say about every one she exhibited. Only once did she and I get an opportunity to converse together.
"I'm delighted that you came tonight," she said sincerely, "because you interest me in a rather strange way. You seem to remind me of someone I know very well yet I am positive that I have never beheld your face before until tonight. Sometime I hope you can come to tea and we can have a rather interesting chat together when none of these ceaseless talkers are present. I suppose it is rather unconventional for me to invite you when you are a total stranger to me but I feel that we have something
