“I swear I wasn’t,” said Georgie. “It never entered my head. Let’s see what else. ‘And Vittoria comes to tell you of fire and water, of fire and water. The strong elements that burn and soak. Fire and water and moonlight.’” “O Georgie, what gibberish,” said Lucia. “It’s as silly as Abfou. What does it mean? Moonlight! I suppose you would say I pushed and was thinking of the Moonlight Sonata.” That base thought had occurred to Georgie’s mind, but where did fire and water come in? Suddenly a stupendous interpretation struck him. “It’s most extraordinary!” he said. “We had a Museum Committee meeting just now, and Mrs. Boucher said the place was streaming wet. We settled to get some oil-stoves to keep it dry. There’s fire and water for you!” Georgie had mentioned this fact about the Museum Committee, but so casually that he had quite forgotten he had done so. Lucia did not remind him of it. “Well, I do call that remarkable!” she said. “But I daresay it’s only a coincidence.” “I don’t think so at all,” said Georgie. “I think it’s most curious, for I wasn’t thinking about that a bit. What else does it say? ‘Vittoria bids you keep love and loyalty alive in your hearts. Vittoria has suffered, and bids you be kind to the suffering.’” “That’s curious!” said Lucia. “That might apply to Pepino, mightn’t it?... O Georgie, why, of course, that was in both of our minds: we had just been talking about it. I don’t say you pushed intentionally, and you mustn’t say I did, but that might easily have come from us.” “I think it’s very strange,” said Georgie. “And then, what came over you, Lucia? You looked only half conscious. I believe it was what the planchette directions call light hypnosis.” “No!” said Lucia. “Light hypnosis, that means half-asleep, doesn’t it? I did feel drowsy.” “It’s a condition of trance,” said Georgie. “Let’s try again.” Lucia seemed reluctant. “I think I won’t, Georgie,” she said. “It is so strange. I’m not sure that I like it.” “It can’t hurt you if you approach it in the right spirit,” said Georgie, quoting from the directions. “Not again this evening, Georgie,” she said. “To-morrow perhaps. It is interesting, it is curious, and somehow I don’t think Vittoria would hurt us. She seemed kind. There’s something noble, indeed, about her message.” “Much nobler than Abfou,” said Georgie, “and much more powerful. Why, she came through at once, without pages of scribbles first! I never felt quite certain that Abfou’s scribbles were Arabic.” Lucia gave a little indulgent smile. “There didn’t seem much evidence for it from what you told me,” she said. “All you could be certain of was that they weren’t English.”