To live! To live! To live--" I heard no more.

Consciousness was blotted out by the darkness he had so graphically described, and when I came to myself I was lying on the floor and he was smoking a cigar and regarding me thoughtfully with that old familiar light of curiosity in his eyes.
"Well, have I convinced you ?" he demanded.

"Here take a drink of this.
I want to ask you some questions." I rolled my head negatively on the floor.

"Your arguments are too--er--forcible," I managed to articulate, at cost of great pain to my aching throat.
"You'll be all right in half-an-hour," he assured me.

"And I promise I won't use any more physical demonstrations.