“I should have killed him!”
“Where did you get the money?” asked Kemp, abruptly.
The invisible man was silent for a space. “I can’t tell you tonight,” he said.
He groaned suddenly and leant forward, supporting his invisible head on invisible hands. “Kemp,” he said, “I’ve had no sleep for near three days, except a couple of dozes of an hour or so. I must sleep soon.”
“Well, have my room—have this room.”
“But how can I sleep? If I sleep—he will get away. Ugh! What does it matter?”
“What’s the shot wound?” asked Kemp, abruptly.
“Nothing—scratch and blood. Oh, god! How I want sleep!”
“Why not?”
The invisible man appeared to be regarding Kemp. “Because I’ve a particular objection to being caught by my fellow men,” he said slowly.
Kemp started.
“Fool that I am!” said the invisible man, striking the table smartly. “I’ve put the idea into your head.”