Page:The strange experiences of Tina Malone.djvu/44

44 "Brown eyes?"

"No."

"Blue?"

"Grey."

"Clean shaven?"

"No."

"Moustache?"

He laughed.

"Yes."

"How old were you when you died?"

"Fifty-five."

"Oh," I said.

"Would you like to know my name?" I asked presently.

"Yes."

"I'm Tina Malone."

"Are you now?" he said putting on a slight brogue.

"Yes, I am," I answered, at once catching the touch of Irish.

"Are you glad to see me Tina?"

"Sure I am that," I said.

"Were you lonely, then, girl?"

"I was."

"You'll not be lonely any more."

I can't remember how many nights passed—it may have been that Tuesday or the following one—when what I term the "operation" took place.

As the exercises progressed I noticed that my visitor seemed concerned about one part of me and always hesitated and paused for some time over one part of me, while I lay still. Then I found my eyes caused to blink hard. I looked towards the foot of the bed where I supposed him to be standing and said:

"You're not to hypnotise me. I will not be hypnotised, do you hear? I will not—I will not—I will not."

I closed my eyes and turned my head to one side. I closed my eyes naturally then, but afterwards they shut tight suddenly.

I lay there talking to my visitor who seemed intent on his work and did not reply—and my arms were then lying by my sides—Soon I found myself giving little whimpers, my forehead puckered. I felt no pain—but my hands began to clutch at the bed-clothes and presently, I thrust my fists into my mouth and began to bite them as people do when they are in great pain, and as if with them stifling a scream.

Then I lost consciousness. My heart seemed to stop and when I came round again—or rather as I had the feeling I have had before on coming out of a faint—a cruelly painful feeling as of life coming back with difficulty—found myself thinking—

"So this is death! I'm dead now."