With hardly a moment's delay the box was removed from our side with some violence; and I can speak with the more feeling of the force of the projection and of the weight of the object, because it struck me under the eye, and this morning I still have upon my face the only too visible mark of it, and feel the pain of it. I don't understand how a woman seated by my side could have the strength to throw with such force a box which, so to speak, should have come from quite a distance. I observe, however, that all the phenomena are produced on the same side of the curtain; namely, behind it, or through it, if you will. I saw leafy branches fall upon the table, but they came from the side of the said curtain. Some persons assert that they saw a green twig come in through the open window which gives upon Cassini Street. But I did not see that. There was a little round table behind the curtain, very near me. Eusapia takes my hand and places it, held in hers, upon the round table. I feel this table shaking, moving. At a given moment I believe that I perceive two hands near by and upon mine. I am not deceived; but this second hand is that of M. Flammarion, who, on his side, is holding the hand of the medium. The round table bestirs itself. It leaves the floor, it rises. I have the feeling of this at once. Then, the curtain having lifted and, as it were, spread itself over the table, I can distinctly see what passes behind it. The round table moves; it rises; it falls. Suddenly tipping partly over, it rises and comes toward me, upon me. It is no longer vertical, but is caught between the table and me in a horizontal position. It comes with sufficient force to make me recoil, draw in my shoulders, and try to push back my chair to let this moving piece of furniture pass. It seems, like a living thing, to struggle between the table and me. Or, again, it seems like an animated being struggling against an obstacle, desiring to pass or move on and not being able to do so, being stopped by the table or by myself. At a given moment the round table is upon my knees, and it moves, it struggles (I repeat the word), without my being able to explain to myself what force is moving it. This force is a formidable one. The little table literally pushes me back, and in vain I throw myself backward to let it pass. Some of those present, M. Baschet among others, have said to me that at this moment it was upon two fingers. Two fingers of Eusapia push up the round table![26] But I, who had not lost my hold on her left hand nor her foot,--I, who had by me the little round table (quite visible in the semi-obscurity to which we had accustomed ourselves), saw nothing, nor did I perceive any effort on the part of Eusapia.