V 
 
That my only means of discovering Arthur's thought 
was by muscle-reading became more than doubtful dur-
ing the third year of our marriage. We practised “telepa-
thy” unashamed. We excluded the “muscle-reader” and 
the “superauditor” and the “human thermopile” by 
elaborate precautions; yet still I was able to read every 
thought of his mind. On our holiday in North Wales at 
Easter one year we separated for a week, at the end of 
that week he to be on the leeward, I on the windward 
side of Tryfan, at an appointed hour, he there to open 
and read to himself a sealed packet given him by “some 
stranger met at Pen-y-Pass during the week.” The ex-
periment was entirely successful; I reproduced every 
word of the document. If the “telepathy” is to be viti-
ated, it is on the theory that I had previously met the 
“stranger” and read from him what he would write in 
such circumstances! Surely direct communication of 
mind with mind is an easier theory!  
Had I known in what all this was to culminate, I 
suppose I should have gone mad. Thrice fortunate that I 
can warn humanity of what awaits each one. The great-
est benefactor of his race will be he who discovers and 
explosive indefinitely swifter and more devastating than 
dynamite. If I could only trust myself to prepare Chloride 
of Nitrogen in sufficient quantity. . . .  
 
 
VI 
 
Arthur became listless and indifferent. The perfec-
tion of love that had been our marriage failed without 
warning, and yet by imperceptible gradations.  
My awakening to the fact was, however, altogether 
sudden. It was one summer evening; we were paddling 
on the Cam. One of Arthur's pupils, also in a Canadian 
canoe, challenged us to race. At Magdalen Bridge we