THE TIME MACHINE

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staring at his face, started convulsively, and poured him wine.
The rest of the dinner was uncomfortable. For my own part, sudden
questions kept on rising to my lips, and I dare say it was the same
with the others. The Journalist tried to relieve the tension by
telling anecdotes of Hettie Potter. The Time Traveller devoted his
attention to his dinner, and displayed the appetite of a tramp.
The Medical Man smoked a cigarette, and watched the Time Traveller
through his eyelashes. The Silent Man seemed even more clumsy than
usual, and drank champagne with regularity and determination out of
sheer nervousness. At last the Time Traveller pushed his plate away,
and looked round us. 'I suppose I must apologize,' he said. 'I was
simply starving. I've had a most amazing time.' He reached out his
hand for a cigar, and cut the end. 'But come into the smoking-room.
It's too long a story to tell over greasy plates.' And ringing the
bell in passing, he led the way into the adjoining room.

'You have told Blank, and Dash, and Chose about the machine?' he