The Psychologist recovered from his stupor, and suddenly looked

under the table. At that the Time Traveller laughed cheerfully.

'Well?' he said, with a reminiscence of the Psychologist. Then,

getting up, he went to the tobacco jar on the mantel, and with his

back to us began to fill his pipe.

We stared at each other. 'Look here,' said the Medical Man, 'are you

in earnest about this? Do you seriously believe that that machine

has travelled into time?'

'Certainly,' said the Time Traveller, stooping to light a spill at

the fire. Then he turned, lighting his pipe, to look at the

Psychologist's face. (The Psychologist, to show that he was not

unhinged, helped himself to a cigar and tried to light it uncut.)

'What is more, I have a big machine nearly finished in there'--he

indicated the laboratory--'and when that is put together I mean to

have a journey on my own account.'

'You mean to say that that machine has travelled into the future?'

said Filby.

'Into the future or the past--I don't, for certain, know which.'

After an interval the Psychologist had an inspiration. 'It must have

gone into the past if it has gone anywhere,' he said.

The Time Machine