‘I want your advice, Seldon.’

Seldon pushed back his chair an inch or so from the table. He had been wondering what was the object of this tête-à-tête dinner. He had seen little of Hamer since the winter, and he was aware tonight of some indefinable change in his friend.

‘It’s just this,’ said the millionaire. ‘I’m worried about myself.’

Seldon smiled as he looked across the table.

‘You’re looking in the pink of condition.’

‘It’s not that.’ Hamer paused a minute, then added quietly. ‘I’m afraid I’m going mad.’

The nerve specialist glanced up with a sudden keen interest. He poured himself out a glass of port with a rather slow movement, and then said quietly, but with a sharp glance at the other man: ‘What makes you think that?’

‘Something that’s happened to me. Something inexplicable, unbelievable. It can’t be true, so I must be going mad.’

‘Take your time,’ said Seldon, ‘and tell me about it.’

‘I don’t believe in the supernatural,’ began Hamer. ‘I never have. But this thing . . . Well, I’d better tell you the whole story from the beginning. It began last winter one evening after I had dined with you.’

Then briefly and concisely he narrated the events of his walk home and the strange sequel.

‘That was the beginning of it all. I can’t explain it to you properly—the feeling, I mean—but it was wonderful! Unlike anything I’ve ever felt or dreamed. Well, it’s gone on ever since. Not every night, just now and then. The music, the feeling of being uplifted, the soaring flight . . . and then the terrible drag, the pull back to earth, and afterwards the pain, the actual physical pain of the awakening. It’s like coming down from a high mountain—you know the pains in the ears one gets? Well, this is the same thing, but intensified—and with it goes the awful sense of weight—of being hemmed in, stifled . . .’

He broke off and there was a pause.

‘Already the servants think I’m mad. I couldn’t bear the roof and the walls—I’ve had a place arranged up at the top of the house, open to the sky, with no furniture or carpets, or any stifling things . . . But even then the houses all round are nearly as bad. It’s open country I want, somewhere where one can breathe . . .’ He looked across at Seldon. ‘Well, what do you say? Can you explain it?’

‘H’m,’ said Seldon. ‘Plenty of explanations. You’ve been hypnotized, or you’ve hypnotized yourself. Your nerves have gone wrong. Or it may be merely a dream.’

Hamer shook his head. ‘None of those explanations will do.’

‘And there are others,’ said Seldon slowly, ‘but they’re not generally admitted.’

‘You are prepared to admit them?’

‘On the whole, yes! There’s a great deal we can’t understand which can’t possibly be explained normally. We’ve any amount to find out still, and I for one believe in keeping an open mind.’