o was getting brain-weary.

'Let's see your experiment anyhow,' said the Psychologist, 'though
it's all humbug, you know.'

The Time Traveller smiled round at us. Then, still smiling faintly,
and with his hands deep in his trousers pockets, he walked slowly
out of the room, and we heard his slippers shuffling down the long
passage to his laboratory.

The Psychologist looked at us. 'I wonder what he's got?'

'Some sleight-of-hand trick or other,' said the Medical Man, and
Filby tried to tell us about a conjurer he had seen at Burslem; but
before he had finished his preface the Time Traveller came back, and
Filby's anecdote collapsed.

The thing the Time Traveller held in his hand was a glittering
metallic framework, scarcely larger than a small clock, and very
delicately made. There was ivory in it, and some transparent
crystalline substance. And now I must be explicit, for this that
follows--unless his explanation is to be accepted--is an absolutely
unaccountable thing. He took one of the small octagonal tables that
were scattered about the room, and set it in front of the fire, with
two legs on the hearthrug. On this table he placed the mechanism.
Then he drew up a chair, and sat down. The only other object on the
table was a small shaded lamp, the bright light of which fell upon
the model. There were also perhaps a dozen candles about, two in
brass candlesticks upon the mantel and several in sconces, so that
the room was brilliantly illuminated. I sat in a low arm-chair
nearest the fire, and I drew this forward so as to be almost between
the Time Traveller and the fireplace. Filby sat behind him, looking
over his shoulder. The Medical Man and the Provincial Mayor watched
him in profile from the right, the Psychologist from the left. The
Very Young Man stood behind the Psychologist. We were all on the
alert. It appears incredible to me that any kind of trick, however
subtly conceived and however adroitly done, could have been played
upon us under these conditions.

The Time Traveller looked at us, and then at the mechanism. 'Well?'
said the Psychologist.

'This little affair,' said the Time Traveller, resting his elbows
upon the table and pressing his hands together above the apparatus,
'is only a model. It is my plan for a machine to travel through
time. You will notice that it looks singularly askew, and that there
is an odd twinkling appearance about this bar, as though it was in
some way unreal.' He point