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"
I
tell
you
,
sir
,
I
'm
not
the
man
for
it
.
Respectfully
--
but
it
is
so
--
"
"
If
you
do
n't
shut
up
I
shall
twist
your
wrist
again
,
"
said
the
Invisible
Man
.
"
I
want
to
think
.
"
Presently
two
oblongs
of
yellow
light
appeared
through
the
trees
,
and
the
square
tower
of
a
church
loomed
through
the
gloaming
.
"
I
shall
keep
my
hand
on
your
shoulder
,
"
said
the
Voice
,
"
all
through
the
village
.
Go
straight
through
and
try
no
foolery
.
It
will
be
the
worse
for
you
if
you
do
.
"
"
I
know
that
,
"
sighed
Mr.
Marvel
,
"
I
know
all
that
.
"
The
unhappy-looking
figure
in
the
obsolete
silk
hat
passed
up
the
street
of
the
little
village
with
his
burdens
,
and
vanished
into
the
gathering
darkness
beyond
the
lights
of
the
windows
.
Ten
o'clock
the
next
morning
found
Mr.
Marvel
,
unshaven
,
dirty
,
and
travel-stained
,
sitting
with
the
books
beside
him
and
his
hands
deep
in
his
pockets
,
looking
very
weary
,
nervous
,
and
uncomfortable
,
and
inflating
his
cheeks
at
infrequent
intervals
,
on
the
bench
outside
a
little
inn
on
the
outskirts
of
Port
Stowe
.
Beside
him
were
the
books
,
but
now
they
were
tied
with
string
.
The
bundle
had
been
abandoned
in
the
pine-woods
beyond
Bramblehurst
,
in
accordance
with
a
change
in
the
plans
of
the
Invisible
Man
.
Mr.
Marvel
sat
on
the
bench
,
and
although
no
one
took
the
slightest
notice
of
him
,
his
agitation
remained
at
fever
heat
.
His
hands
would
go
ever
and
again
to
his
various
pockets
with
a
curious
nervous
fumbling
.
When
he
had
been
sitting
for
the
best
part
of
an
hour
,
however
,
an
elderly
mariner
,
carrying
a
newspaper
,
came
out
of
the
inn
and
sat
down
beside
him
.
"
Pleasant
day
,
"
said
the
mariner
.
Mr.
Marvel
glanced
about
him
with
something
very
like
terror
.
"
Very
,
"
he
said
.
"
Just
seasonable
weather
for
the
time
of
year
,
"
said
the
mariner
,
taking
no
denial
.
"
Quite
,
"
said
Mr.
Marvel
.
