She was speaking across to the spirits. Deep inside me leaped a jump of laughter. I wanted to howl with laughter. Then instantly, I went inert again. The chill gloom seemed to deepen suddenly in the room, everybody was overcome. On the piano-seat the Colonel sat yellow and huddled, with a terrible hang-dog look of guilt on his face. There was a silence, in which the cold seemed to creak. Then came again the peculiar bell-like ringing of Lady Lathkill's voice: "Are you here? What do you wish us to do?" A dead and ghastly silence, in which we all remained transfixed. Then from somewhere came two slow thuds, and a sound of drapery moving. The Colonel, with mad fear in his eyes, looked round at the uncurtained windows, and crouched on his seat. "We must leave this room," said Lady Lathkill. "I'll tell you what. Mother," said Lord Lathkill curiously; "you and the Colonel go up, and we'll just turn on the Victrola." That was almost uncanny of him. For myself, the cold effluence of these people had paralysed me. Now I began to rally. I felt that Lord Lathkill was sane, it was these other people who were mad. Again from somewhere indefinite came two slow thuds. "We must leave this room," repeated Lady Lathkill in monotony. "All right. Mother. You go. I'll just turn on the Victrola." And Lord Lathkill strode across the room. In another moment the monstrous barking howl of the opening of a jazz tune, an event far more extraordinary than thuds, poured from the unmoving bit of furniture called a Victrola. Lady Lathkill silently departed. The Colonel got to his feet. "I wouldn't go if I were you. Colonel," said I. "Why not dance? I'll look on this time." I felt as if I were resisting a rushing, cold dark current. Lord Lathkill was already dancing with Mrs. Hale, skating delicately along, with a certain smile of obstinacy, secrecy, and excitement kindled on his face. Carlotta went up quietly to the Colonel, and put her hand on his broad shoulder. He let himself be moved into the dance, but he had no heart in it. There came a heavy crash, out of the distance. The Colonel stopped as if shot: in another moment he would go down on his knees. And his face was terrible. It was obvious he really felt another presence, other than ours, blotting us out. The room seemed dree and cold. It was heavy work, bearing up. The Colonel's lips were moving, but no sound came forth. Then, absolutely oblivious of us, he went out of the room. The Victrola had run down. Lord Lathkill went to wind it up again, saying: "I suppose mother knocked over a piece of furniture." But we were all of us depressed, in abject depression. "Isn't it awful!" Carlotta said to me, looking up beseechingly. "Abominable!" said I. "What do you think there is in it?" "God knows. The only thing is to stop it, as one does hysteria. It's on a par with hysteria." "Quite," she said.