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breaking, and go on burning steady, and--Hullo!"
It was enough to make anyone say "Hullo!" The impossible, the
incredible, was visible to them all. The lamp hung inverted in the air,
burning quietly with its flame pointing down. It was as solid, as
indisputable as ever a lamp was, the prosaic common lamp of the Long
Dragon bar.
Mr. Fotheringay stood with an extended forefinger and the knitted brows
of one anticipating a catastrophic smash. The cyclist, who was sitting
next the lamp, ducked and jumped across the bar. Everybody jumped, more
or less. Miss Maybridge turned and screamed. For nearly three seconds
the lamp remained still. A faint cry of mental distress came from Mr.
Fotheringay. "I can't keep it up," he said, "any longer." He staggered
back, and the inverted lamp suddenly flared, fell against the corner of
the bar, bounced aside, smashed upon the floor, and went out.
It was lucky it had a metal receiver, or the whole place would have been
in a blaze. Mr. Cox was the first to speak, and his remark, shorn of
needless excrescences, was to the effect that Fotheringay was a fool.
Fotheringay was beyond disputing even so fundamental a proposition as
that! He was astonished beyond measure at the thing that had occurred.
The subsequent conversation threw absolutely no light on the matter so
far as Fotheringay was concerned; the general opinion not only followed
Mr. Cox very closely but very vehemently. Everyone accused Fotheringay
of a silly trick, and presented him to himself as a foolish destroyer of
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