't you get that collar off, man?"

"It was stiff," apologised Mr. Newman, arranging himself in the large
chair. "How are you going to do it?"

Carrick's hot hand pressed his head back on the cushions.

"Shut up," he was told. "Let yourself go, now; just let yourself go."

The chair faced the blank, bare wall of the room; there was nothing
in front of Mr. Newman for his eyes to rest on and take hold of.
Carrick's hands no longer touched his head; he was alone in his
chair, in a posture of ease, with the gear of his mind slacked off,
his consciousness unmoored to drift with what-ever current should
flow about it. He knew, without noting it, that something like a fog
was creeping up about him; the pale wall became a bank of mist,
stirring slowly; his pulse was a rhythm that lulled him faintly. He--
the aggregate of powers, capacities habits that made the sum of him--
was adrift, flowing like a vapor that leaks into the air and thins
abroad. A coolness was on his forehead as of a little breeze.

Carrick, behind the chair, saw that his head drooped, and came round
to look at him. He seemed to slumber with his eyes half open, and his
plump hands, white and luxurious, were clasped in his lap. Carrick
considered him and then crossed to his desk to get his pipe. He
expected to have to wait for some time.

But it was less than five minutes before Mr. Newman stirred like a
man who moves in his-sleep and emitted a long gusty sigh. His hands
unclasped; he drove up to consciousness like a diver who shoots up
through strangling fathoms of water to the generous air above. Life
was compelling him; through the confusion of his senses he felt
Carrick's hand on his shoulder and heard him speaking.

"Feeling quite all right--what? Here, drink some of this. It's only
water. A drop more? Right!"

Mr. Newman pushed the glass away and sat upright, staring wide-eyed
into the curious face of Carrick, who bent over him, tumbler in hand.

"All right?" asked Carrick again.

"Yes--now," replied Mr. Newman slowly. "But--what did you do to me,
Carrick?"

Carrick gave a relieved snort and set the tumbler down on the
mantelshelf.

"What did I do?" he repeated. "Opened a door for you--that's all.
What did you find the other side?"

Mr. Newman passed an uncertain hand across his eyes. The feeling with
which he had returned to consciousness, that liberties had been taken
with him, was leaving him as the familiar ugly room grew about him
aga