which were only too legible, his name, "George Solly." Behind the chair on which he was sitting stood a woman. Her pose was curiously natural—not at all the rather-death-than-move pose which is dear to the average photographer. She rested one hand lightly on the man's shoulder, and she was stooping a little forward as if she was curious to see what was written upon the slate which he was holding. Her features were not quite clear, and the whole photograph, so far as she was concerned, was rather dim—but there could be no possible doubt of the fact that she was there.
"Dodsworth," said the doctor, "do you mean to tell me that you have not been trying some little novelty of your own in the way of spirit photographs?"
"Upon my honour, doctor, no. I looked at that negative directly I got home, and when I saw that woman standing there, well—I declare to you that I felt queer. I have brought that negative here, and the other two negatives. Anybody who knows anything about photography will be able to see at a glance that they have not been tampered with since their original exposure. The print which the doctor has is the result of the first, and this, Mr. Paley, is the result of the second exposure."
Mr. Dodsworth handed Mr. Paley a second photograph. It was a repetition of the first, only, in this case, instead of standing at the back of the man's chair, the woman was kneeling on the ground at his side, and was stretching out her hand and arm in such a manner that they screened the words which were written on the slate.
