"No!" he said. "No! I'll tell you what it is: it is what they call a
hallucination."
"Oh, no," replied Mr. Neal calmly. "It is real, John. There's no doubt
it's real."
The chief clerk shook his head sharply again, and there was a pause.
"I felt I must tell you," resumed Mr. Neal at length, "because I saw him
again last night."
His friend looked quickly at the little clerk, who gazed away among the
trees, his eyes luminous.
"I saw him in the Pennsylvania subway station, and I followed him out.
There was no doubt about it: I saw his face. He went down Eighth Avenue,
and I saw him turn in at a door. I wasn't far behind him. The door was
right next to a pawnshop. It was unlatched, and I went in. I found
myself in a dark hallway, but toward the other end there was light
coming from a half opened door. I was excited, John. Tremendously. You
see, John, it was the great experience of my life--no wonder I was
trembling.
"I stepped quietly back to where the light was, and looked into the room
that it came from. What do you think I saw, John? There was a young
mother and two fresh-cheeked boys; one of the boys was reading at the
table, and the other one sat in a low chair at his mother's knee and she
was talking to him--telling him stories, I think. The room was poor,
John, but the mother's face! It was wonderful! It reminded me of my own
mother's.
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