“I can’t stay,” she said, remaining on the threshold so that, because the hall beyond her was dark, I could not tell what she looked like. I could see only that she was diminutive; the clear, dissonant notes of her voice were like a string of brilliant, hollow balls. “I cannot come in. I am sorry. You must not be angry, please. I promised to go to the séance. It can’t be done without me.”

“But you promised three days ago to come tonight,” said Nathan.

She hesitated a moment. “Yes, that’s true, I did. And I would rather stay with you. But they said they couldn’t make the séance work without me and so I have to go. Please understand.”

“Let me go with you, then.”

“Oh, but you said you hated things like that. You hate me to go to them. I told them this would be the last time I would come. You wouldn’t like to go.”

“Yes, I would like to go,” said Nathan firmly. “Is it cold out? Should I wear a coat?”

The high voice was desperate. “But you would hate it. It would be all right if just the real people were there. But riffraff is coming tonight. It’s not by invitation tonight. Please!”

“That’s all the better. If there are a lot of people I can leave if I want without offending anyone. Is it cold out or not?”

“Very well,” said the girl angrily, “I won’t go then. I told a lie. It’s not for everybody. It is very exclusive. They wouldn’t let you in. No, I won’t go. I will sit here with you. But first I must call and tell them I’m not coming.”

“All right,” said Nathan. “You can use the janitor’s telephone.”

“No, I must go to the drug-store anyway. I must buy something. I will be back in a little while.”

Nathan sighed. “Go on to the séance if there is a séance. But come in and meet an old friend of mine, an old, and up to a point, faithful, friend.”

“I am too faithful!” she cried. Then, “Oh,” she said as she saw me, “Why does he want me if he has company?”