“There’s not an ounce of malice in this crowd,” Carter remarked. “No, not among us. But the things you let in to your foolish minds are all malice. Believe me, they’ve had a ripping time to-night. They have to take what they can find--yes. It’s the way they use it that counts.” “But suppose whatever it is were true,” Miss Ford murmured. “Suppose it was her brother, after all, getting through.” “I’ve told you the dead can’t get through--not the real dead. It’s only spirits pretending.” “You’ll never get her to believe that,” Allis said ruefully. “None of us could believe that.” “Pardon me, I could,” Mrs. Conway threw back. “And if I can make Mrs. Medford believe it, too, it will be the best way out of the mess you’ve made.” “Good luck go with you,” he called after her. But he seemed dazed. When Maud Allis came back, Miss Ford made her adieux, and Carter left with her. They had been, from first to last, outsiders, and perhaps it was the most tactful thing they could have done. I prepared to follow them, and Maud Allis, saying good-night to them, bade me good-night, too. “I’ve got to see Nora,” she said. “I promised her I would before she went to bed. I meant to cut out from bridge. Probably I shall see you again, Mr. Fenwick. Sorry you have to go, Mr. Gregory.” There was certainly no urge to stay, in her voice. She was more done up than she owned. Yet she had not seen those sheets that Fenwick had written--any more than I had, or Mrs. Conway, or Genevieve Ford, or Carter. I let Carter and Miss Ford get away a little in front of me, thinking that they were best by themselves, in the fellowship of their detachment from it all. Whatever had happened to the rest of us had left them unscathed. They had not been touched, apparently, by the episode, except to see that Mrs. Medford’s exit was a cue for them to break up the party. I lighted a cigarette in the vestibule, and craned my neck to see them turn the corner. It was jerked back by a clutch on my collar, and I dropped the cigarette. “Come back in here, you idiot!” said Allis in my ear. “Did you really think you were going?” Yes, I really had thought so; but I went in again. I found, when I reached the library (Allis locked the door behind us) that he had furnished Fenwick with a precious drink. He offered me none, and was taking nothing himself. Whiskey is medicine, in these days. “Fenwick and I need some one else to sit in with us,” Allis declared. “I may have to tell Maud later. That’s neither here nor there. I’m glad those two young people had the sense to go. If they hadn’t, I’d have kicked them out.” “Well, of course, I’m eaten alive with curiosity,” I admitted. “Only it all sounded like the sort of thing that wouldn’t be mentioned again unless necessary. I never saw a word of the stuff, remember.” “I saw precious little of it, and Fenwick here saw no more than I did.” Allis began to walk about with his hands in his pockets. “You can see the effect it has had on Fenwick.”