“She didn’t. She believes Matthew held out.... Message from Mary K. Margaret, I do.... I do fight for you.” I asked if Mary K. were writing. “No. Go to high forces for help. Only be forceful for us first. Mary K. will do her best for forces of light and progress. Matthew is better and danger is passing. ~M. A.~” I demanded Mary K. “Not this time. All the forces have gathered.... She ~should~ ... said be forceful.” Saying that the whole thing seemed absurd, I asked whether it had to do with Germany and the war, or with the book and me—provided it had to do with anything, which I began to question. “It is the ~flander~ ... it is the ~battle~ ... book, not the ~godse~ ... god sent war.” Amazed, I questioned: “Is God-sent war right?” After some delay—when one of the numerous blanks occurred, all force being withdrawn from the pencil—the impression of tumult instantly ceased, leaving a sense of sudden quiet and peace. Then—“Mary K. Mary K. Mary K.” “That feels like Mary K.,” I said. “It means Mary K., too.” “What did all that mean?” “Meant that the forces of disintegration have had control of you for days, at moments. Matthew was a force for fear.” When I asked whether she had been away she wrote quickly: “No, not for one instant. He held me back, and called to your fear in accents of truth.... We have the forces all about us, and sometimes we are overpowered and compelled to let them through temporarily, but they can always be fought away in time.” Brisk circles of affirmation followed my suggestion that possibly this explained the Farrow episode, and she made the statement previously quoted: “We had a terrific struggle for you then. We told you the truth, but the other forces controlled the pencil.” Weeks afterward, I asked her to explain more fully this dual control, and her reply seems to me singularly illuminating. “The connection with the pencil has no influence on your consciousness. We may control the consciousness, through purpose and its unity, even though other forces control the material instrument.” This seems not only to show why these messages are written sometimes with and sometimes without the messenger’s previous knowledge of their content, but also to offer a possible explanation of phenomena of a much wider range. To my great surprise, Mary Kendal announced herself a day or two after this, having preceded Mansfield, she said, because I was “fairly beleaguered by the enemy” in an attempt to prevent the publication of the message.