What are you doing?
Ah!" The room sprang into view, and Julian's eyes, with a furious, sick eagerness, sought his hands.
"Valentine," he exclaimed hoarsely, "I see nothing, but I've got hold of the hand still.

I've got it tight.

Put your hand here--that's it--under mine.

Now d'you feel the thing ?" Julian's hand, contracted as if grasping another, was in the air, about an inch, or an inch and a half, above the surface of the table.

Valentine obediently thrust his hand beneath it.