Mrs. Stapleton broke in.
“No, no; now, Mr. Vincent, now. Do something now. Surely the circumstances are favorable.”
“I must be gone again at six-thirty,” said the man hesitatingly.
Laurie broke in. He felt desperate.
“If you can show me anything of this, sir, you can surely show it now. If you do not show it now—”
“Well, Mr. Baxter?” put in the voice, sharp and incisive, as if expecting an insult and challenging it.
Laurie broke down.
“I can only say,” he cried, “that I beg and entreat of you to do what you can—now and here.”
There was a silence.
“And you, Mr. Jamieson?”
The young clergyman started, as if from a daze. Then he rose abruptly.
“I—I must be going, Lady Laura,” he said. “I had no idea it was so late. I—I have a confirmation class.”
An instant later he was gone.
“That is as well,” observed the medium. “And you are sure, Mr. Baxter, that you wish me to try? You must remember that I promise nothing.”
“I wish you to try.”
“And if nothing happens?”