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BUT I COULDN’T TELL ANNE ANYTHING THEN She was too upset All the built-up tension in her see it The death of her mother, the shocks heaped upon her because of ht it was done with and, in this off-balanced state, a second plunging into dread It would have broken anyone I put her to bed with a sedative and stayed with her until she’d fallen into a heavy sleep As soon as I was sure she was asleep I went back into the kitchen and got the grocery pad There was so more to this than Alan had said If Helen Driscoll wanted to be living here again why should I be getting written es froh the mouth ofhad happened to her back east Unless she was No I fought that I wasn’t ready to topple off that brink again It was a trap I had to face this thing hardheadedly this tiness to s, in an instant, what philosophers spent lifeti to ain All I would admit was that there was ht

I picked up the pencil and held it lightly on the paper I looked out through the doorThat hat you had to do in what is called auto It is beyond will, beyond conscious pen Some have slept

I tried to take my attention off the pencil I wanted to put it out of my mind in order to allow my subconscious to control it I stared into Elsie’s kitchen and saw her sitting there with Ron and her parents They were playing their weekly gah and heard, floating through the , the sound of it I wondered if their noise would distract me, then realized that distraction was precisely what I wanted I paid careful attention to Elsie I thought about the tiht what a terrible world it would be if ht, and everyone knehat everyone else was thinking What a terrible breakdown of society There could be no society when every hbours Unless, of course, by the tiain maturity and be able to cope with their new-found abilities

An hour passed My hand grew craan to ache; but the pencil reave it up Obviously, nothing was going to co intoto ue ofthat it was she If she was a spirit,-and I wouldn’t adht ht that, certainly, it was Presu survival, the fact that people retained their personal consciousness beyond death would in no way guarantee sudden o, this abrupt ily I’d read once, in a book on spiritualism, the souls often refuse to admit they are dead and attempt continued existence on their prior level Thus, if Helen Driscoll were I broke that off urgently I wasn’t going into it I decided that, for inalHelen Driscoll-actually to see her I felt no qualms about this now I didn’t fear any physical depletion Perhaps-I suspected it-I was beco, at least in part, what Alan had called a "developed" medium, one as not helpless prey to his awareness I had no idea of why this should be so

It was about twelve-forty when I sat on the sofa, turned out the lights and began to concentrate I didn’t put back estures were extraneous Probably it wasn’t necessary to turn out the lights either; hadn’t Alan said so quite successful ht? I had also read, however, that light weakens psychic phenomena and decided to take the easiest way I was, after all, still a novice My search for Helen Driscoll was not a positive, thrusting process I didn’t murmur Where are you? If you’re there, rap the coffee table leg, once for yes, twice for no In a sense, I merely emptied my mind of nonessentials and waited for her tohis psychic forces, but only a h which they could express themselves

It was in that sean Since I was atte for what happened

Which was a sense of tension, a double feeling-of dismay and reaction to that dismay I shifted on the sofa and looked around as if I expected to see her in the roo of restless ht Yet different now My syste; the tension was elsewhere than ht it had to do with Helen Driscoll I tried to apply it thus Was it her feeling, her emotion? I couldn’t tell; but it didn’t seem to fit There was an aura about it that was alien to her Still I fu trouble in revealing herself to h this way now that I was not as I had been?

I started to rise to get the pad and pencil again

Pure animal emotion hit , too close It expanded fluidly, running together beforeup As if what I saere reflections in water and soe just before it caht only of Helen Driscoll It was her e to ue and inchoate; it wouldn’t hold together There was anger; violent anger; there was resentainst whom I couldn’t tell either I was only sure it was Helen Driscoll Maybe, the idea came, she resented Sentas for so, You know me, Harry Sentas

All sorts of conjectures passed quickly acrossimpressions Conjectures that she had been close to her sister and Sentas had resented that closeness and, by unpleasant behaviour, forced her to leave That she was in love with Sentas and, rather than face the inevitable sha it slip out in the presence of her sister, had left Even that Sentas had been having an affair with her and that Mrs Sentas had found out about it and that hy Helen Driscoll left this house And why there was always a see air of strain between Sentas and his wife As if they were actors portraying a well-adjusted couple, erring in their characterization in the direction of over-fores further, breaking thes which re fury

Suddenly, frighteningly, I thought that it was Anne; and that the object of the aniht that but the concept stuck It could so very well be, I knew In her despair, in her possible twisted resent expressed her innernant in this house of shocks-sheinfluence of sleep, be releasing currents of hatred toward ain I couldn’t believe it I couldn’t

The fury rose Words, like bodiless limbs, flopped past, at first too disjointed, too pointless to understand I tried hard to understand them and over-concentration weakened them further I realized quickly that I had to relax I tried Iain Words Cruel Heartless Home Wife, you Scorn for Brutal and I You just don’t know

And then adultery

Suddenly I knew And, in knowing, it seeether and I could - see the true reflection I gasped