every word, "but the chairs? Ye—es! I think I did see chairs—wooden chairs."
"And was the skylight broken?"
"No—yes—possibly—very probably," floundered the Philosopher.
"Then I 've got it," said Mr. Kirby briskly, "I 've spotted it! You were quite right when you said you 'd never been there in the flesh. At least, I don't think you ever can have been there. It isn't in this town at all. It isn't in England. It 's a place my firm looks after in the Hebrides—wonderful old place, you know—deserted. A Manse it was. Now the history of that house" he was continuing volubly, when the Professor checked him.
"Not at all! Not at all!" he said angrily, "I tell you it is somewhere close by here! In Ormeston!"
"My dear sir!" said Mr. Kirby, opening wide eyes, "how can you know that a duplicate of the house I am thinking of?"
"I 've told you already," snapped Higginson. "In these visions one has connotations of atmosphere, and so on."
"Well," said Mr. Kirby, after that outburst, shaking his head slowly from side to side, "then I 'm of no use, none at all. I do know
