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make if it were not travelling in time. That’s plain enough.’ He
passed his hand through the space in which the machine had been.
‘You see?’ he said, laughing.

We sat and stared at the vacant table for a minute or so. Then the
Time Traveller asked us what we thought of it all.

‘It sounds plausible enough to-night,’ said the Medical Man; ‘but
wait until to-morrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.’
‘Would you like to see the Time Machine itself?’ asked the Time

And therewith, taking the lamp in his hand, he led the way down
the long, draughty corridor to his laboratory. I remember vividly
the flickering light, his queer, broad head in silhouette, the dance
of the shadows, how we all followed him, puzzled but
incredulous, and how there in the laboratory we beheld a larger
edition of the little mechanism which we had seen vanish from
before our eyes.

Parts were of nickel, parts of ivory, parts had certainly been filed or
sawn out of rock crystal. The thing was generally complete, but the
twisted crystalline bars lay unfinished upon the bench beside some
sheets of drawings, and I took one up for a better look at it. Quartz
it seemed to be.

‘Look here,’ said the Medical Man, ‘are you perfectly serious? Or is
this a trick-like that ghost you showed us last Christmas?’

‘Upon that machine,’ said the Time Traveller, holding the lamp
aloft, ‘I intend to explore time. Is that plain? I was never more
serious in my life.’ None of us quite knew how to take it.

I caught Filby’s eye over the shoulder of the Medical Man, and he
winked at me solemnly.
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