The Time Machine


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of the candle. But how the trick was done he could not explain.  
The next Thursday I went again to Richmond--I suppose I was one of  
the Time Traveller's most constant guests--and, arriving late, found  
four or five men already assembled in his drawing-room. The Medical  
Man was standing before the fire with a sheet of paper in one hand  
and his watch in the other. I looked round for the Time Traveller,  
and--'It's half-past seven now,' said the Medical Man. 'I suppose  
we'd better have dinner?'  
'Where's----?' said I, naming our host.  
'You've just come? It's rather odd. He's unavoidably detained. He  
asks me in this note to lead off with dinner at seven if he's not  
back. Says he'll explain when he comes.'  
'It seems a pity to let the dinner spoil,' said the Editor of a  
well-known daily paper; and thereupon the Doctor rang the bell.  
The Psychologist was the only person besides the Doctor and myself  
who had attended the previous dinner. The other men were Blank, the  
Editor aforementioned, a certain journalist, and another--a quiet,  
shy man with a beard--whom I didn't know, and who, as far as my  
observation went, never opened his mouth all the evening. There was  
some speculation at the dinner-table about the Time Traveller's  
absence, and I suggested time travelling, in a half-jocular spirit.  
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