A few days later I received a visit from Miss Dodan. I was then working
at some photographs in the dark room. My assistant told me of her
arrival. I hurried to our little reception room and library, where a few
of my father's "Worthies of Science" decorated the walls, which for the
most part were covered with irregular book cases, while a long square
covered table occupied the center of the room, littered with charts,
maps, journals and daily papers.
Miss Dodan sat near the wide window looking toward Christ Church and the
quickly descending road over which only a few days ago my father had
journeyed. I caught in her face, as I entered, an anxious and disturbed
glance, and I felt almost instantly an intimation of disaster. She
turned to me as I came into the room and with a quick movement advanced.
"Mr. Dodd, your father is ill. I hardly know what is the matter with
him. He is quite strange; does not know us when we talk to him, and
wanders in a talk about 'magnetic waves' and 'his wife' and 'different
code.' Won't you come to see him? You may help him greatly."
The kind, clear eyes looked up into mine and the impulse of real
sympathy as she pressed my hand seemed unmistakable. I asked a few
questions and was convinced that my father was the victim of some sort
of shock, perhaps precipitated by the continuous excitement caused by
our unaccountable experience in the observatory.
I was but a few moments getting ready for the drive to Christ Church.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53