“One minute,” said the Voice.
“Well?” said Mr. Thomas Marvel.
“You think I’m just imagination? Just imagination?”
“What else can you be?” said Mr. Thomas Marvel, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Very well,” said the Voice, in a tone of relief. “Then I’m going to throw little stones at you till you think differently.”
“But where are you?”
The Voice made no answer. Whizz came a little stone, apparently out of the air. Mr. Marvel was too amazed to dodge. Whizz came another little stone, and ricochetted from a bare toe into the ditch. Mr. Thomas Marvel jumped a foot and howled aloud.
“Now,” said the Voice, “am I imagination?”
Mr. Marvel lay quiet.
“If you struggle,” said the Voice, “I shall throw the stone at your head.”
“Oh-oh,” said Mr. Thomas Marvel, taking his wounded toe in hand. “I don’t understand it. Stones are flinging themselves. Stones are talking. I’ll surrender.”
“It’s very simple,” said the Voice. “I’m an invisible man.”
“Tell me something more interesting,” said Mr. Marvel. “Where you’ve hid-how you do it-I don’t know.”
“That’s all,” said the Voice. “I’m invisible. That’s what I want you to understand.”
“Anyone can see that. There is no need for you to be so confounded impatient, mister. But tell me: where do you hid?”
“I’m invisible. That’s the great point. And what I want you to understand is this-”
“But where are you?” interrupted Mr. Marvel.
“Here! Six yards in front of you.”
“Oh, come on! I am not blind. You will tell me now that you are just air. I’m not ignorant.”
“Yes, I am air. You’re looking through me.”
“What! And you have nothing? Only your voice?”
“I am just a human being-solid, needing food and drink, needing covering too-But I’m invisible. Do you see? Invisible. Simple idea. Invisible.”
“What? Are you a real man?”
“Yes, real.”
“Let me touch your hand,” said Marvel, “if you are real. Lord!”
He felt the hand that had closed round his wrist with his disengaged fingers, and his fingers patted a muscular chest, and explored a bearded face. Marvel was very surprised.
“Great!” he said. “It’s even better than cock-fighting! Most remarkable! And there I can see a rabbit clean through you, a mile away! Not a bit of you visible-except-”
He scrutinised the apparently empty space keenly.
“Have you eaten bread and cheese?” he asked, holding the invisible arm.