“You’re quite right, and it’s not quite assimilated.”
“Ah!” said Mr. Marvel. “Sort of ghostly, though.”
“Of course, all this isn’t half so wonderful as you think.”
“It’s quite wonderful enough for my modest mind,” said Mr. Thomas Marvel. “How did you manage it? How the devil is it done?”
“It’s a long story. And besides-”
“I tell you, I can’t believe it,” said Mr. Marvel.
“What I want to say at present is this: I need help. I have come to that. I was wandering, mad with rage, naked, impotent. And I saw you-”
“Lord!” said Mr. Marvel.
“-then stopped. ‘Here,’ I said, ‘is an outcast like myself. This is the man for me.’ So I came to you. And-”
“Lord!” said Mr. Marvel. “But may I ask-How is it? And what help do you need? Invisible!”
“I want you to help me get clothes and shelter and then, with other things. I’ve left them long enough. If you won’t-well! But you will-you must.”
“Look here,” said Mr. Marvel. “I’m too flabbergasted. Don’t touch me any more. And let me go. It’s all so unreasonable. Empty hills, empty sky. Nothing visible for miles except the nature. And then comes a voice. A voice out of heaven! And stones! Lord!”
“So,” said the Voice, “you have to do the job I’ve chosen for you.”
Mr. Marvel blew out his cheeks, and his eyes were round.
“I’ve chosen you,” said the Voice. “You are the only man except some of those fools down there, who knows there is an invisible man. You have to be my helper. Help me-and I will do great things for you. An invisible man is a man of power.”
He stopped for a moment to sneeze violently.
“But if you betray me,” he said, “if you don’t do the things I want-”
He paused and tapped Mr. Marvel’s shoulder smartly. Mr. Marvel gave a yelp of terror at the touch.
“I don’t want to betray you,” said Mr. Marvel. “All I want to do is to help you-just tell me what I must do. Lord!”