Weird Tales volume 31 number 03 by 1888â1940 Farnsworth Wright Page B
Authors: 1888â1940 Farnsworth Wright
Ads: Link
chuckled. "Ronald is being very careful, eh? Well, well—but accidents sometimes happen—and then there is only Dimitri." He stared fixedly at Mary. "You are very beautiful, my child; our Police Commissioner Ethredge is a fortunate man—indeed he is."
Mary Roberts flushed. "I was impressed by your — demonstration," she said hastily. "It was—spectacular."
He lifted a monstrous, shapeless paw.
"Histrionics," he said flatly. "My real work does not deal with such fireworks. Would you be convinced? Are you in every respect sound and well?"
Mary tried to repress the shudder of aversion that crept through her as she looked at the man.
"I am in perfect health," she said firmly.
Dmitri looked down at his great soft hands. Then he spoke, as it were casually, to Helen Stacey-Forbes.
"I have wanted—since your brother came to me a year ago—to examine you, as well. You come from an old family; should you marry it is possible that you would transmit to your children the hemophilia from which he suffers. Today is a propitious day; your friend can accompany us while I interrogate you; then, should she need me at some future time she would not fear me — as she does now."
Helen Stacey-Forbes' face was grave. "I had thought—of coming to you," she admitted. "Perhaps—if Miss Roberts is willing ?"
Mary objected only faintly. She was wondering if perhaps Helen had not really brought her here because she feared to be alone with this man. . . .
"The—guests?"
Dmitri glanced about the room, heaved himself ponderously to his feet.
"The guests!" he exclaimed. "We will be but a few minutes. Those in need of me will wait; the others are better gone. Come."
THE chamber into which Dmitri ushered the two young women was a small room, almost monastically furnished. There was a large table and
THE THING ON THE FLOOR
287
Dmitri's usual massive chair; several other, smaller chairs were scattered haphazardly about. A faded strip of carpeting ran diagonally from the door toward the table. There were no pictures, no bookcases or books, no filing-cabinet or desk. A telephone rested at one end of the table, close beside an ambiguity that —save for its grotesquely large bulb, full of an uncommon multiplicity of filaments and several oddly shaped and curiously perforated metal vanes—looked like an unshaded desk-lamp.
Dmitri lowered himself into his tremendous chair. "Sit down," he directed abruptly. "Compose yourselves. You, Miss Roberts, may watch this experiment; it is in no way new, yet it is always fascinating. Notice this lamp; it is so designed that it emits whorls of multicolored light, which move according to a recurrent pattern, somewhat in the manner of a pin-wheel."
His hands, hidden beneath the table, touched a concealed switch, and the odd-looking lamp began to glow in all its many filaments, while simultaneously the complexity of tiny vanes began to revolve, slowly at first and then faster and faster, until they had attained a maximum velocity beyond which there was no further acceleration. And as the filaments within the lamp gradually warmed, Mary realized that they gave off light of many colors, as varied and as beautiful as the spectrum seen in rainbows, colors which moved and changed in a weirdly hypnotic sequence of patterns. . . .
"Observe the lamp, Miss Stacey-Forbes," Dmitri said, in a calm, conversational tone. "Do not trouble to think— merely observe the lamp—see how the colors melt and run together and repeat themselves again "
Abruptly the ceiling light was extinguished. And Mary Roberts gasped at the unearthly beauty of the whirling
lights; even beneath the cold glow of the Mazda lamp they had been a strange symphony, but now, glowing and whirling like a mighty nebula of spinning
suns ! Her eyes were riveted upon
them; the)' seemed to draw her toward
them, to suck her into themselves. . . .
"Observe the lights, Miss Stacey-
Forbes " Mary knew that it was
Dmitri's voice, yet it sounded
Mary Roberts flushed. "I was impressed by your — demonstration," she said hastily. "It was—spectacular."
He lifted a monstrous, shapeless paw.
"Histrionics," he said flatly. "My real work does not deal with such fireworks. Would you be convinced? Are you in every respect sound and well?"
Mary tried to repress the shudder of aversion that crept through her as she looked at the man.
"I am in perfect health," she said firmly.
Dmitri looked down at his great soft hands. Then he spoke, as it were casually, to Helen Stacey-Forbes.
"I have wanted—since your brother came to me a year ago—to examine you, as well. You come from an old family; should you marry it is possible that you would transmit to your children the hemophilia from which he suffers. Today is a propitious day; your friend can accompany us while I interrogate you; then, should she need me at some future time she would not fear me — as she does now."
Helen Stacey-Forbes' face was grave. "I had thought—of coming to you," she admitted. "Perhaps—if Miss Roberts is willing ?"
Mary objected only faintly. She was wondering if perhaps Helen had not really brought her here because she feared to be alone with this man. . . .
"The—guests?"
Dmitri glanced about the room, heaved himself ponderously to his feet.
"The guests!" he exclaimed. "We will be but a few minutes. Those in need of me will wait; the others are better gone. Come."
THE chamber into which Dmitri ushered the two young women was a small room, almost monastically furnished. There was a large table and
THE THING ON THE FLOOR
287
Dmitri's usual massive chair; several other, smaller chairs were scattered haphazardly about. A faded strip of carpeting ran diagonally from the door toward the table. There were no pictures, no bookcases or books, no filing-cabinet or desk. A telephone rested at one end of the table, close beside an ambiguity that —save for its grotesquely large bulb, full of an uncommon multiplicity of filaments and several oddly shaped and curiously perforated metal vanes—looked like an unshaded desk-lamp.
Dmitri lowered himself into his tremendous chair. "Sit down," he directed abruptly. "Compose yourselves. You, Miss Roberts, may watch this experiment; it is in no way new, yet it is always fascinating. Notice this lamp; it is so designed that it emits whorls of multicolored light, which move according to a recurrent pattern, somewhat in the manner of a pin-wheel."
His hands, hidden beneath the table, touched a concealed switch, and the odd-looking lamp began to glow in all its many filaments, while simultaneously the complexity of tiny vanes began to revolve, slowly at first and then faster and faster, until they had attained a maximum velocity beyond which there was no further acceleration. And as the filaments within the lamp gradually warmed, Mary realized that they gave off light of many colors, as varied and as beautiful as the spectrum seen in rainbows, colors which moved and changed in a weirdly hypnotic sequence of patterns. . . .
"Observe the lamp, Miss Stacey-Forbes," Dmitri said, in a calm, conversational tone. "Do not trouble to think— merely observe the lamp—see how the colors melt and run together and repeat themselves again "
Abruptly the ceiling light was extinguished. And Mary Roberts gasped at the unearthly beauty of the whirling
lights; even beneath the cold glow of the Mazda lamp they had been a strange symphony, but now, glowing and whirling like a mighty nebula of spinning
suns ! Her eyes were riveted upon
them; the)' seemed to draw her toward
them, to suck her into themselves. . . .
"Observe the lights, Miss Stacey-
Forbes " Mary knew that it was
Dmitri's voice, yet it sounded
Similar Books
