“Well, upon my word, Doctor, I believe I should enjoy a smoke,” he answered almost cheerfully.
He took the pipe and began to fill it, while the Doctor kept rattling away.
“Had a smoke since you left, Maurice?”
“Oh yes!”
“They smoke in Mars then.”
“Yes.”
“Can’t you relent and tell us something? George was kinder. He told me his experience.”
“I can tell you nothing, Doctor, but I would like to ask you one question and George another.”
“I’ll be forgiving then and answer. Fire away.”
“Do you believe that I have actually been to Mars?”
The Doctor hesitated.
“Why as to that, I hardly know what to say,” he replied. “Since you left us, Maurice, my mind has been in a curiously muddled state. So many strange things have been forced upon me that in spite of reason I have been obliged to waver in my utter disbelief in the spiritual. I know Wylde to be a man of positive and unimaginative character. I know that he would not wilfully deceive me, and I am willing to believe that he thinks he went to Mars. Further than that, there is my own experience, of which he has, perhaps, told you. I thought I went to Mars and said as much when I came to my senses. That is about where I stand. I am bound to admit also that the inhaling of the gas, be its nature what it may, produces effects altogether beyond the range of medical knowledge. I am entirely willing to believe, my dear fellow, that you honestly think you have visited the planet Mars. Indeed I will go a step further and admit that I haven’t a doubt that I, had I inhaled the gas would now entertain some such notion myself.”
“Then you do not believe that I have actually visited Mars?”
“No. I believe you have been in a condition wholly abnormal, your supposed experiences emanating from your own brain.”
“Good! Now we understand each other. Let me say that my experiences were as real to me as ever the experiences of any month of your life on earth have been to you. Now George, for your question. Do you believe that while I was absent I paid you a visit?”
