Chapter Two

“I’m sorry, but the news is not good.” The Reverend William Weston Patton looked at Edgar with sympathetic eyes and bowed his silvery gray head.

“As you know, I have long taken a personal interest in you.” He raised his head and gave Edgar a broad smile. “You are a remarkable young man, and when you go out into the world, you are also representing Howard University and your race. It was with our assistance you were able to secure the funds to get your Ph.D. at Yale.”

Edgar smiled and thanked him for the hundredth time. The reverend smiled in return and said, “Tut, tut.” Still, the reverend had raised the issue of his indebtedness.

“On your behalf,” Reverend Patton continued, “I have written many institutions to help you gain a position but without luck. However, given a personal connection I have with Professor Trowbridge at Harvard, and knowing they are completing a new physics laboratory, I thought our, that is, your chances were excellent.”

Edgar now sat up on the edge of his chair, anxious at news of a real prospect.

“I have sent three personal letters to President Charles William Eliot, on your behalf. The first two went unanswered, the latest, a curt response stating the physics department is fully staffed. Trowbridge tells me that isn’t true. Trowbridge’s lobbying has also gotten nowhere. I’m afraid we have run out of options.”

Edgar heaved a sigh and glanced around the room. A picture of General Howard, the one-armed Civil War general who founded the university, stared down at him. He seemed to say, “Don’t give up. By God, I never have.”

Edgar looked at his benefactor. “I have an aunt in Shrewsbury, Massachusetts. Perhaps I’ll pay her a visit.”

Reverend Patton leaned back in his chair, which screeched in protest. “Good idea. Make him tell you “no” to your face. Perhaps he won’t be able to. If you can’t make any headway, I know a normal school whose administration would feel lucky to have you.”

Edgar stood up and shook the reverend’s hand. He was grateful for the assistance, in spite of it going nowhere. On an impulse, he asked, “Do you mind if I take Mr. Eliot’s letter? It may help strengthen my resolve.”

“Of course.” The reverend handed it to him. “Good luck.”

“I am tremendously grateful.” Edgar shook his benefactor’s hand and nodded goodbye to the picture of General Howard.

Several days later, Edgar arrived at Harvard and found his way to President Eliot’s office. The officious secretary was a gray-haired woman with a gray disposition. Her face featured a sharp beak-like nose, and she would periodically dart her head this way and that, like a hawk. The woman began to bang away at a typewriter as Edgar came up to her neat but crowded desk. Edgar removed his hat and bowed. The secretary froze with her hands poised above typewriter’s keys. She brought her head up, then looked away.

“Yes?”

“My name is Dr. Edgar Gilpin. I don’t have an appointment, but I would very much like to have a moment with President Eliot. I don’t mind waiting.”

“President Eliot is extraordinarily busy today. It would be impossible for you to see him.”

Edgar smoothed the front of his vest with one hand. “What about tomorrow?”

“The same.”

“And the day after?”

She sighed. “He’s a very busy man.”

“I see.” Edgar noticed the three empty chairs against the wall. “I’ll wait here and see if he has a moment to spare.”

Edgar sat there for an hour before President Eliot arrived. The president opened the door and strode across the room to his office. “Morning, Clarissa,” he said in passing.

“Good morning, sir.”

Edgar stood, recognizing the man from the photo in the hall, but the president continued into his office and shut the door. Edgar sat down again. In a short while, the secretary stood up and took a stenography notebook plus several sharpened pencils off her desk and retreated into the president’s office.

A half-hour later, she emerged, returned to her desk, and resumed typing.

A total of three men came and went on separate occasions before lunch. They were each ushered into the president’s office as soon as they arrived. The last walked out of the office around noon, laughing with the president, both smoking cigars. They left together, without so much as a glance toward Edgar. At that, the secretary straightened her desk and walked toward the door.

“I’m afraid you’ll need to leave now. I lock up when I go to lunch.”

Edgar exhaled audibly and followed her out. After a little searching, he found an eatery near campus that would serve him. He returned to the president’s office around one o’clock, as the secretary unlocked the door. She did not acknowledge him and simply went inside, shutting the door in his face. Edgar pounded the flat of his hand hard against the door. The sound and sting of his hand gave him pause. Don’t, he said to himself, calming his temper. After a moment, he entered and reclaimed his seat.

The secretary stood with her back against her desk looking frightened. “What was that?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“A student dropped an armload of books out in the hall. I stopped to give him a hand.”

The woman now seemed scared of him. She tentatively moved around her desk and resumed her work.

President Eliot returned around two-thirty and emerged from his office again around four. He carried his briefcase, plus his hat and coat. This time, Edgar stood and introduced himself as the president crossed the room. The man simply walked by without acknowledging him.

Edgar became boiling mad. The pretentious bastard! He turned toward the secretary as anger rushed through him. The urge rode him to sweep everything off her desk and chuck her typewriter through one of the windows. Instead, he asked in as even a tone as he could manage, “Will he be returning?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said, averting her eyes from him as she typed. “He has two receptions this evening.”

“I see.”

Edgar retrieved his hat from the chair and stormed out of the office, still biting his tongue. Down the hall, he stopped at a drinking fountain. He filled his right hand with water and used it to splash his face, trying to cool off, both figuratively and literally.

“Dr. Gilpin, is it?”

Edgar straightened up as water ran down his face.

“Yes?” The man standing before him surveyed Edgar with intense eyes. He possessed a high forehead, dark hair, and a beard with a few streaks of gray running through.

“Forgive me,” said Edgar, running his hands over his face to wipe off most of the water. He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and pressed it to his cheeks. He lowered the damp cloth and looked at the bearded man before him. “I was feeling a little faint.”

The man stuck out his hand toward Edgar. “Dr. William James, professor of psychology and philosophy here at Harvard. I caught wind of Eliot giving you the cold shoulder.”

“What? Am I the butt of jokes in the faculty dining hall?”

“Well, yes, frankly, but good in the sense I learned of you. I asked the people at my table, and Trowbridge said you came highly recommended. He pushed hard for your candidacy but couldn’t get anywhere. So you see, you do have some champions here. I’d like to be one of them.”

“Do you have the weight to get me a position?”

“No, not per se.”

“I thought not. Perhaps I’ll find better luck in Europe.”

Professor James held up both his hands before him, as though trying to calm a horse. “Before you desert the motherland, like my famous brother, I’d like to propose a job that would offer you a unique opportunity to use your expertise in both physics and engineering.

“Prior to you making a decision,” James continued, “I wonder if you might join me and my family for a light supper and then allow me to take you to a demonstration which I hope may pique your interest.”

Surprised at this sudden turn of events, Edgar chuckled in spite of himself and made a little bow. “I would be honored.”

Later that evening, after a meal of beef barley soup, fresh bread, cheese, and apples, Edgar, Professor James and his wife enjoyed coffee and small talk.

“Where were you born?” asked Alice James. She took a sip of coffee and then smiled at him. Attractive but serious-looking, Alice seemed to run the house with a firm grip, despite her soft voice and demeanor. Her wide irises made her eyes look dark, and she wore her ebony-colored hair tied up on her head with a blue ribbon. She appeared to be in her early thirties.

Edgar met their two boys when he and the professor entered the kitchen through the rear of the house. The nanny had been feeding the boys—Harry, three years, and Billy, three months.

“I was born into slavery on a plantation in South Carolina.”

“And you have a doctorate in physics,” noted the professor. “You have made remarkable strides, young man.”

“I have had much help along the way.”

Just then, the three-year-old scampered out of the kitchen and sat on his father’s lap.

“Harry, please say hello to Dr. Gilpin,” said the professor.

Edgar smiled and offered his hand for the boy to shake. Instead, the child swiped his fingers along the darker skin on the back of Edgar’s hand. The boy studied his fingers. “Does it come off?” he asked.

“Harry!” shouted Alice, clearly mortified. The boy looked surprised at his mother’s reaction and began to wail. He jumped from his father’s lap and ran into the arms of his nanny, who emerged from the kitchen.

“It’s all right. The boy didn’t mean any harm,” said Edgar.

“It’s not all right,” said Alice. She turned to the nanny, who held the crying boy in her arms. Alice softened her voice. “Please take Harry back to the kitchen. I shall speak to him later.”

“Harry, our first child, is my domestic catastrophe,” continued the professor. “I should have learned my lesson, but it seems Alice and I are producing a litter.”

Alice flushed and lowered her gaze. “William!”

“Right.” The professor grinned and changed the subject. “It’s time we should be about our evening’s business.” He stood.

“Will you be staying with us, Mr. Gilpin?” asked Alice. As she rose from the table, Edgar noticed for the first time her bump of pregnancy.

“I wouldn’t presume—” Edgar started to say, but Alice cut him off.

“Nonsense. We’d love to have you, right, William?”

“Right. So long as you don’t mind sleeping on the sofa. Our guest room is currently occupied.”

“I would be more than happy with such accommodations.”

“Then it’s settled.” The professor fetched his hat from the stand near the front door. “We won’t be late, Alice. A couple of hours at most.”

When they arrived at their destination, a row house in Cambridge, Edgar and the professor were ushered into the room by Annabelle Douglas, who introduced herself as the professor’s assistant. The woman wore her dark brunette hair pulled back over her ears into a bun, and her navy-blue dress lacked lace or ornamentation. Despite the effort to appear prim and businesslike, she looked quite beautiful. Edgar stuffed those thoughts aside. Not only were they taboo, but he had no time for women.

They walked into a drawing room and Edgar saw a small dark-haired woman being tied to a chair by two men.

Edgar stopped in his tracks and backed out of the room. “What in God’s name is going on here?” he demanded.

The professor followed him out into the hall.

“This may appear a little untoward,” Professor James admitted in a low voice, as he shut the door, “but I assure you everything is being done in the name of science. The woman is Eusapia Palladino. An associate of mine, Cesare Lombroso, recently sent her to America from Italy. She is currently staying in my home as a guest of our family.”

Edgar continued down the hall toward the front door. Could this man’s hospitality be designed to dupe me? He looked back over his shoulder at the professor who trailed him. “Is this how you treat your house guests? No thank you!”

The professor grabbed Edgar’s arm and swung him around. Edgar prepared to break free, but the older man’s face appeared earnest. Edgar took a deep breath. The professor’s kindness necessitated he at least hear him out. He decided to give the man a chance to explain himself.

“Back in Italy,” the professor continued, “Eusapia is a famous medium. Lombroso, a natural cynic decided to investigate her on behalf of the Society for Psychical Research. He and his assistants traveled to Sicily and sought her out. There, they insisted she conduct a demonstration in a well-lit room of Lombroso’s choosing. She agreed to the room but insisted the room be darkened. When he protested, she screamed at him.

“I’m afraid this is a regular and colorful aspect to Miss Palladino’s personality. Needless to say, she got her wish. However, Lombroso insisted she be tied to her chair.

“So there she was, tied up like a hog, and seething mad. She glared at Lombroso for ten minutes and nothing happened. Impatient and disgusted, Lombroso rose to end the session. He turned up the lamps, and froze, dumbfounded.

“Eusapia Palladino sat in the chair with her eyes shut, oddly pale. Several feet away, the heavy curtains covering the windows billowed as though blowing in the wind.

“Lombroso’s two assistants dove for the curtains to catch whoever lurked behind them but found no one and the windows latched tight. A small table in the center of the room began to slide across the floor. Lombroso and his two men checked everywhere for any wires or other devices but could find none. They were forced to conclude Eusapia Pallidino possessed certain powers.

“The SPR decided she should come to America so I might conduct further tests along with Fredrick Meyers and Oliver Lodge—other members of our organization. Fred’s family initially decided to take her in, but it became a debacle.

“First of all, it seems Eusapia hates Cambridge. She always complains of being cold, even in summer. Evie, Fred’s wife, attempted to be very accommodating at first, taking Eusapia shopping, cooking Italian meals, and allowing Eusapia to dominate the table conversation. However, only Fred speaks Italian and Eusapia speaks hardly any English.

“Eusapia would shout down anyone else at the table and would chatter on incessantly. She would often reenact scenes from her life, including when brigands invaded her childhood village. She’d even grab steak knives and jab them at members of Meyer’s family for effect. In the end, Evie became fed up and insisted Eusapia go, which is why the medium is currently a guest in our home.

“We were not having much success with our testing of her. We held a number of sessions in the Meyer’s home, Eusapia remained sullen and uncooperative. A few things would rattle on the mantel, but nothing more. Most troubling for our work occurred when Richard Hodgson, head of the American branch of the SPR, came to a session. He told me to avoid any safeguards, and he would play a gullible fool. In doing so, he caught Eusapia cheating.

“Hodgson, who in reality is brilliant, acted dim-witted and enthralled with anything Eusapia said. At the session we all sat around a table with our hands joined on top—the tips of our little fingers touching. In the near-darkness, Eusapia manipulated her hands so Hodgson’s soon touched the tip of the finger of the man on the other side of her. With her hands free, she began moving things around in the center of the table. Likewise, he caught her moving her legs, knocking and moving things with her foot. He bounded to his feet and accused her of being a fraud and a cheat. Which she clearly is, when given the opportunity.

“I confess to being similarly disgusted with her, but I had already arranged another session with two visiting British physicists, Lord Raleigh and Joseph John Thomson, also known as J.J.”

“Really?” said Edgar. He shook his head in amazement. “Raleigh and Thomson would actually subject themselves to parlor room trickery?”

“I told them she was a cheat, but they insisted on the session nonetheless. J.J. told me, legitimate or no, it sounded like a good deal of fun. I let them know I planned to make every effort to prevent a recurrence of cheating.

“Like tonight, we bound Eusapia to a chair and checked everywhere for wires or any other form of subterfuge. Eusapia sat apart from everyone, and our only concession being to darken the room somewhat. As with Lombroso, nothing happened at first. In fact, twenty minutes went by and I looked at Lord Raleigh and J.J. for guidance on whether or not we should continue. J.J. made a little motion with his hand to relax and sit tight.

A moment or two later, the curtains began to billow, exactly as Lombroso witnessed. J.J. and Lord Raleigh went to the draperies and pushed on them. They would not move, except by their own accord. As before, we checked behind the curtains and saw no one and the window latched tight. By Lord Raleigh’s estimate, the curtains billowed out at least three feet. We checked all around Eusapia for any threads or wires. None. Lord Raleigh pronounced the occurrence odd.

“Odd indeed, but I could not interest them in further research. Thus I have asked you, Dr. Gilpin, to join us here tonight. I dare say, you are every bit as bright as Lord Raleigh and J.J., and I hope your curiosity extends beyond simply pronouncing things “odd,” and moving on.”

Edgar looked at the professor wide-eyed. “So this is why you brought me here? Am I to lend some legitimacy to her little stunts?”

“Hardly. While admittedly, the field is riddled with fakery, we have determined approximately five percent of reported paranormal occurrences cannot be dismissed as fraud. These deserve scientific investigation. Lodge is also a physicist, visiting from Liverpool where he is a professor. I ask you to approach this with an open mind. Before the invention of the microscope, people could not believe a whole other world existed beyond the view of the naked eye.”

Edgar looked down the hall at the door to the parlor. He looked directly at James. “Your kindness today compels me to indulge you in this, so long as you can assure me the woman is not being held against her will?”

“Indeed! But let’s return before Eusapia finds a way out of her restraints.

“This house belongs to a friend of ours, and Eusapia has never been here before. We have checked the room for wires and threads and have sealed the windows. My assistant in these matters, Miss Douglas, has monitored her all day. These precautions, together with binding Eusapia’s hands and legs, can assure us if something happens, it will not be due to underhanded trickery.”

“If what happens?” asked Edgar.

“Let’s wait and see.”

James opened the door and they rejoined the others.

The professor introduced Edgar, Meyers, Lodge, and Eusapia, the latter of whom simply gave her head a curt nod. James insisted they all take their seats. In perfect Italian, which Edgar understood, the professor said, “You may begin, Miss Palladino.”

At first, the bound woman just stared at them, seeming to focus her attention on each, one at a time from across the room. Edgar studied the woman as best as he could manage in the dim light. She looked short and sturdy-looking but not fat. She wore her mass of black hair drawn back from her face in a careless tail, and bangs hung down to her dark eyebrows. She had olive skin and intense-looking eyes. Her nose appeared a little larger than average and her lips were thin. Still, she projected a forcefulness about her he found attractive.

From across the room, it seemed as though her eyes locked on Edgar’s. He stared back, fascinated by the intensity of the diminutive woman. He felt himself being drawn into her gaze and could not look away.

“He doubts!” She screamed the words again, “He doubts!” She suddenly broke out in a loud hysterical laugh. This trailed away as the color seemed to go out of her face. Eusapia closed her eyes.

Just like before, the drapes billowed and undulated as if from some breeze. In the corner of the room, a music box began to play.

The group watched as the music box rose into the air and flew toward Edgar, who caught it. He closed the lid, but the music kept playing. He turned it over in his hands, trying to find some sort of switch.

“Curious,” Edgar muttered and tried to remove the key, but it would not come free. The music box fell from his hands and clattered onto the wooden floor. Edgar bent to retrieve it, but as he did so, something slapped him from behind and knocked him to the floor.

“Hey!” yelled Edgar.

The rest of the group seemed stuck to their seats. Edgar pleaded with them for help while some unseen force dragged him beneath the heavy-looking table in the center of the room. As he watched, unable to get up, the table rose into the air above him.

“What the hell? Help me!” he screamed.

Annabelle shouted, “Look at Eusapia!” Edgar craned his neck around to see a spectral white substance emerge from the top of the medium’s head. He returned his gaze to the table above him and stared in disbelief.

The heavy table, hovering five feet in the air, upended itself, so its thick spiraled legs stuck up toward the ceiling.

“Good God, help me!” shouted Edgar.

Annabelle screamed.

With incredible speed, the white excretion extending from Eusapia darted across the room and shoved Edgar back toward his seat, just as the table crashed down onto the floor. The moment the table hit, the white substance vanished.

“Merciful heaven!” cried Meyers.

Edgar, now free to move, rolled over, pushed himself up on all fours, and sobbed with relief. The professor and the rest of the group surrounded Edgar who looked up with sudden anger. “Why didn’t you help me?” he shouted.

“We couldn’t move!” Annabelle said in their defense.

“Frozen to our chairs,” said Lodge in his British accent.

“Are you all right?” the professor asked.

“Yes, I think so.” Edgar stood and patted his body. “Yes, I’m fine.” He looked over at the professor and shook his head. “I didn’t realize I was risking my life in being here.”

“We’re so sorry,” said Annabelle.

“This has never happened before,” Lodge added.

“Could it have been her doing?” the professor wondered, as he looked at the bound woman.

Eusapia sat drenched in sweat, head bowed down to her chest.

“Or could she be some sort of catalyst for things not entirely in her control?” he added.

Lodge and Meyers went to Eusapia and began untying the medium. Having freed her constraints, Meyers bent down on one knee before her and lifted her head in his hands. Eusapia’s eyes flew open, and she grabbed Meyers’ head and kissed him passionately.

When she released him, Meyers stood, looking embarrassed, and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“She appears to be fine,” said Edgar in a frosty voice.

Professor James coughed and shook his head in dismay. “Seems to be a side effect of these sessions. She is—how shall I put it?—aroused.”

Eusapia stood, unsteady, and nearly fell. Lodge held her up. She looked at Edgar and said in English, “I save you.”

“I dare say, you almost killed him!” said Lodge.

After conferring, they agreed the professor would take Edgar in his carriage, and Annabelle would follow behind with Eusapia. Lodge and Meyers would try to put the room back in order, and before the others left, they started to right the heavy table.

“This must weigh over a hundred pounds,” Lodge said, grunting.

Later, as the horse clomped along on Cambridge’s cobblestone streets, the professor shot a glance at Edgar, then smiled. “So, my friend, were you intrigued?”

“Afraid would be more apt.”

“There are sometimes dangers when dealing with the unknown. I sought you out today because I am putting together my own team of researchers. I would like you to be a part of it. I’m calling the group the “Eidola Project.” Eidola is an ancient Greek word for ghosts, but I envision us investigating all things supernatural. At the very least, you’ll never be bored.”

“You already have a physicist,” said Edgar.

“Lodge? He is heading back to England in a few days. In addition to me, it would be you, Annabelle Douglas and possibly Meyers—if I can convince his wife to loosen the reins.”

“I don’t know… According to you, much of what is purported to be supernatural is faked.”

“Debunking those frauds would be of service to many people who would be taken in by charlatans.”

“I hoped to do research, perhaps invent things.”

“Wonderful. I would gladly provide you with space in my lab at Harvard and with what funding I can manage.”

“This is not at all what I expected when coming to Boston.”

The professor brought the horse to a stop. “Opportunity knocks, Dr. Gilpin. A man of your intelligence should be at the forefront of human knowledge. What say you?”

They stopped just outside of the city proper, where the road changed from stone to packed earth. Without street lights, it was difficult for Edgar to see. However, there was faint illumination from the widely spaced homes, and from the lanterns on each side of the carriage. After a few moments of silence, he realized the professor had extended a hand to him. Edgar stared awkwardly at it in the dim light.

“I’m afraid I need some time to think on this. May I give you my answer in the morning?”

Annabelle’s and Eusapia’s carriage came to a stop behind them. He heard their horse whinny.

“Quite all right, but realize you have a chance to build a life and a career free of racial impediments. It would be an honor to work with you.”

“I appreciate that.”

The professor shook the reins and they started up again. The two rode in silence the rest of the way to the James’ home.

In front of the house, the professor stopped the carriage and let Edgar get out. He hopped down and went to Annabelle’s carriage as it came up behind. The front door to the house opened and Alice James appeared and ran across the drive to her husband. She kissed his cheek and put her arm through his. She gave Annabelle, what Edgar assumed to be, a quick proprietary glance and then turned her attention back to her husband.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” said Alice. “The kids are abed. I’ll draw you a bath.”

Eusapia jumped down from her carriage and looked at the professor and his wife. “Bath? Yes!” Eusapia spoke with conviction and strode into the house.

Incredulous, Alice looked at her husband. The professor let go of the bridle on Annabelle’s horse long enough to pat Alice’s hand. “Don’t trouble yourself. I need to put the horse in the stable. I’ll be in directly. Perhaps you can see that Dr. Gilpin is well situated for the night.”

Alice looked crestfallen but complied. She went over to Edgar and gave a strained smile. “I trust you enjoyed a pleasant evening?”

Sensing the tension, Edgar cocked his head. “Are you sure this is not putting you out? Perhaps the professor’s assistant, Miss Douglas, could give me a lift somewhere I might find lodging.”

Alice visibly recovered herself. She smiled now with real warmth. “No, I wouldn’t hear of it. You are no trouble at all, Mr. Gilpin.” She put her arm in his and led him into the house. Alice looked over her shoulder at her husband and Miss Douglas. “Don’t be long, dear.”

****

The professor turned toward Annabelle once Alice and Edgar went into the house.

“So?” asked Annabelle. “Did he agree?”

“He wants to sleep on it.”

“Well, that’s something,” she said. Annabelle took in a deep breath and exhaled. “I don’t mind telling you, tonight frightened me. Were you not there, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” Annabelle surprised herself at these remarks. She never before projected weakness and hoped, if he didn’t take the bait—flirting with him by feigning to be the weaker sex—he wouldn’t think any less of her.

The professor, lost in his thoughts, seemed oblivious to her flirtation. After a few moments of silence, he said, “Yes, quite an eventful session. I can’t see how any of it was faked.”

Annabelle, rebuffed, composed herself and picked up the reins. “I do hope Mr. Gilpin joins our little company. I expect I shall see you tomorrow in any case. Sweet dreams.”

The professor let go of the bridle and stepped back. “And to you, Miss Douglas.”

****

Alice brought Edgar into her husband’s study. A small lamp lit the room from the desk, a workspace crowded with research materials and stacks of manuscript papers.

“My husband’s book project on psychology,” she said, indicating the manuscript. “He’s been working on it for years and admits he’s nowhere near done.”

Behind the desk and on another wall were tall bookshelves, filled with numerous volumes. Above the fireplace, among the many other pictures, stood a framed portrait of a pretty Alice as a teenager. A sofa, already made up as a bed, stood between two sets of draped windows.

“I thought you’d be more comfortable in here than in the living room. Our son, Harry, whom you met at dinner, knows not to enter this room. Otherwise, he would probably roust you from your slumber at the crack of dawn. Besides, with you in here, odds are William will spend the rest of the evening with me, rather than with his tome.” She pointed to the manuscript again with a wry little smile.

Edgar bowed. “I am happy to oblige you in your domestic machinations. Thank you again for your hospitality.”

Alice turned with a rustle of her long skirt and shut the door on her way out.

Edgar strolled over to the desk and studied the items without disturbing things. Some manuscript pages were in longhand, others typed. He turned up the desk lamp and lifted one page to catch the light.

Sensations, once experienced, modify the nervous organism, so that copies of them arise again in the mind after the original outward stimulus is gone. No mental copy, however, can arise in the mind, of any kind of sensation which has never been directly excited from without.

Edgar set the page down. If the professor was right, the frightful situation he experienced a few hours ago may well arise again in his mind. He turned to the bookshelves for distraction.

The extensive library contained volumes representing numerous religions—an old Bible, a Koran, the Torah, the Bhagavad Gita and texts on Buddhism—to modern scientific texts, including Darwin’s The Descent of Man, and Lyell’s Principles of Geology. There were also classics: Shakespeare, Chaucer, Ovid, Aristotle. One portion of a shelf was reserved for volumes by Henry James.

“The proud brother,” Edgar said under his breath.

Never having read Henry James, he decided on a volume entitled, The Portrait of a Lady. Edgar set the book on the sofa and lit a nearby lamp. He went back and blew out the one across the room.

After reading for an hour, Edgar set the book on the little table behind him and turned the lamp down. He drifted off to sleep, hoping the trials of Isabel Archer would dominate his dreams, rather than the evening’s proceedings.

He dreamt being dragged across a wooden floor again, screaming for help. Though bound, Eusapia stared at him with her intense eyes and laughed. A weight settled on his midsection, and for a second, he wondered if the heavy table had crashed down upon him.

Edgar awoke and stared into Eusapia’s eyes.

Eusapia was pulling down his pants while straddling him and continuing to hold his stare. Her nest of black hair hung loose about her face and onto the white of her gown, which she’d hiked up to her hips. She reached down and clutched him as she continued to stare into his face. “I save you,” she said with a smile.

Edgar’s member hardened, in spite of himself. When she guided him into her, Edgar gasped.

In his twenty-six years, he’d never been with a woman, devoting himself to his studies and advancing his career. And he became awkward around the ladies. Opportunities were ignored or turned away, fearful of entanglements. Now…

What am I doing? But he couldn’t stop.

Eusapia began to rock back and forth, as she pressed down upon his chest. She stared at him all the while, and he could not look away. His eyes began to water with the strain. At last, she shut her eyes and shuddered and Edgar did the same, climaxing together.

Eusapia began to laugh hysterically.

“You’ll wake them!” Edgar said in alarm.

Eusapia put two fingers on his lips and hushed him. “I save you,” she whispered. She bent over and kissed him on the mouth.

Her breath, more pungent than a dirty sock, caused him to turn his head away. A moment later, reconsidering this, he turned back and kissed her.

In the morning, when Edgar emerged from the study, he found Alice and the maid setting the table. Edgar could hear the children in the kitchen with the nanny.

Alice smiled. “Good morning, Dr. Gilpin. Did you sleep well?”

Edgar smiled in return. “All things considered, remarkably so.”

“I’m glad. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“It should be ready in a moment. Please sit down.”

Edgar sat and idly played with the silver fork at his place setting. He heard footfalls on the steps and saw Professor James descending the stairs while he tied his tie. It seemed dangerous the man should be doing so on the stairs; however, certainly less dangerous than what he experienced the previous evening.

Edgar grinned and shook his head, amazed at everything in the preceding twenty-four hours.

“What?” said the professor. “Does my tie clash with my jacket?”

“Forgive me, I was recalling last night.”

“Well, if you’re smiling, can I take that as a good sign?”

Before Edgar could answer, a thunderous clamor occurred as a suitcase tumbled down the stairs, followed by a string of Italian profanity. Eusapia continued to swear as she struggled down the stairs with a second piece of luggage. She retrieved the fallen bag and moved to the front door. She turned and announced, “I go now.”

Alice burst out of the kitchen. “Did someone fall? Is everyone all right?”

The professor went to his wife, took her hand, and patted it. “We’re fine. It seems Eusapia wishes to go back to Italy.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “And not a moment too soon,” she muttered loud enough for Edgar to hear. Edgar wondered if Eusapia heard and understood the words.

As if on cue, Eusapia began to scream in a high ear-piercing howl.

Alice’s mouth dropped open. She turned to her husband and back to Eusapia.

Professor James patted his wife’s hand again. He looked at Eusapia and shouted in Italian over the din, “I understand your desire to leave.”

Eusapia stopped screaming.

The professor lowered his voice and continued. “We were about to eat, and you have a long trip ahead of you. Please join us at the table before I take you to Boston.”

Eusapia gave her head a curt nod and dropped her bags to the floor with a crash. She went to the head of the table and sat. “I eat!” she announced in English.

Edgar took this all in, wide-eyed.

“So, Dr. Gilpin,” said the professor as he took a seat opposite Eusapia, “are you preparing to abandon ship as well?”

Edgar looked at Professor James and smiled. He shook his head. “I’ve decided to accept your offer. As you indicated yesterday, I shall never be bored.”