human
That blooming fellow Musty is in my room still, said he.
gpt
He has been at my throat again.
human
Nonsense, I said.
gpt
You are labouring under hallucinations. You locked your door.
human
Oh, by Jove, yes--of course I did; but, hang it, in this hole, neither doors nor windows fit, and the locks are no good, and the bolts nowhere. He got in again somehow, and if I had not started up the moment I felt the knife, he'd have done for me. He would, by George. I wish I had a revolver.
gpt
It's very good of you to say there is no wound, said he.
human
But you won't gull me with words. I felt his knife in my windpipe, and if I had not jumped out of bed----
gpt
You locked your door. No one could enter. Look in the glass, there is not even a scratch. This is pure imagination.
human
I'll tell you what, old fellow, I won't sleep in that room again. Change with me, there's a charitable buffer. If you don't believe in Musty, Musty won't hurt you, maybe--anyhow you can try if he's solid or a phantom. Blow me if the knife felt like a phantom.
gpt
I do not quite see my way to changing rooms, I replied;
human
All right, answered Jameson.
gpt
And if Musty comes in again, let out at him and do not spare him. Swear that.