"Ferrier!" The tone of the repeated word brought the moisture to
Lankester's eyes. He took the dreamer's hand in his, pressing it.
Marsham returned the pressure, first strongly, again more feebly. Then a
wave of narcotic sleep returned upon him, and he seemed to sink into it
profoundly.
* * * * *
Next morning, as Marsham, after his dressing, was lying moody and
exhausted on his pillows, he suddenly said to his servant:
"I want something out of that cabinet by the fire."
"Yes, sir." The man moved toward it obediently.
"Find a newspaper in the top drawer, folded up small--on the right-hand
side."
Richard looked.
"I am sorry, sir, but there is nothing in the drawer at all."
"Nonsense!" said Marsham, angrily. "You've got the wrong drawer!"
The whole cabinet was searched to no purpose. Marsham grew very pale. He
must, of course, have destroyed the paper himself, and his illness had
effaced his memory of the act, as of other things. Yet he could not
shake off an impression of mystery. Twice now, weeks after Ferrier's
death, he seemed to have been in Ferrier's living presence, under
conditions very unlike those of an ordinary dream.
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