Suddenly, in consequence of the vibrations produced, the air became luminous. 

 "Ah! you, Doctor?" 

 "Yes," was the reply. "How are you?" 

 "I am feeling well." 

 "Good! Let me see your tongue. All right! Your pulse. Regular! And your appetite?" 

 "Only passably good." 

 "Yes, the stomach. There's the rub. You are over-worked. If your stomach is out of repair, it must be mended. That requires study. We must think about it." 

 "In the meantime," said Mr. Smith, "you will dine with me." 

 As in the morning, the table rose out of the floor. Again, as in the morning, the potage, rôti, ragoûts, and legumes were supplied through the food-pipes. Toward the close of the meal, phonotelephotic communication was made with Paris. Smith saw his wife, seated alone at the dinner-table, looking anything but pleased at her loneliness. 

 "Pardon me, my dear, for having left you alone," he said through the telephone. "I was with Dr. Wilkins." 

 "Ah, the good doctor!" remarked Mrs. Smith, her countenance lighting up. 

 "Yes. But, pray, when are you coming home?" 

 "This evening." 

 "Very well. Do you come by tube or by air-train?" 

 "Oh, by tube." 

 "Yes; and at what hour will you arrive?" 

 "About eleven, I suppose." 

 "Eleven by Centropolis time, you mean?" 

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