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Lady Doyle stood up. The clairvoyant's eyes moved as though accompanying a person who was approaching her. "He is wearing evening clothes," she murmured. She inclined her head to listen. A silent moment. Her head jerked up. She stared at Lady Doyle, shivered, ran to the widow, whispered.
Persons nearby could hear: "Sir Arthur told me that one of you went into the hut [on the Doyle estate] this morning. Is that correct?"
Lady Doyle, faltering: "Why, yes." She beamed. Her eyes opened widely.
At this point some intrepid mockers rose in the hall, noisily stamped towards exits. The great organ of the hall pealed, drowned out the disturbance.
The clairvoyant to Lady Doyle: "The message is this. Tell Mary [eldest daughter]. . . ."
Eavesdroppers could hear no more.
Adrian Doyle, later: "The spirit message answers all the tests which my father and mother had agreed upon before his passing. I can only agree with mother that the message is of so intimate a character it cannot be made public even to our closest friends."
Lady Doyle, later: "I am perfectly convinced that the message is from my husband. I am as sure of the fact that he has been here with us as I am sure that I am speaking to you. It is a happy message, one that is cheering and encouraging. It's precious and sacred."
*Sir Arthur used to boast that he had played practically every game of modern athletics. He was a chunky, muscular, solid, stolid man. Psychologists have noted that such men. when emotionally upset as by a close death, often become mystics. Spiritualists.