Then he looked at his daughter, and as their eyes met, she said in the most commonplace tones: "My dear Dad, what _is_ the matter with you?
If advanced people like ourselves believed in any such nonsense, I should be inclined to say that you had seen a ghost; but I suppose it's only that silly fourth dimension puzzle that's worrying you.

Now, look here, you must really take your whisky and go to bed.

If you go on bothering any longer about 'N to the fourth,' you will have one of your bad headaches to-morrow and won't be able to finish your address for the Institute." She put her hand out and took up the decanter.

It passed without any apparent resistance through the jar.

She lifted it from the same place, and poured out the usual modicum of whisky into the glass, which was standing just where the flagon was.