The Man of Science

I met a man in the Strand one day that I knew very well, as I thought,
though I had not seen him for years. We walked together to Charing
Cross, and there we shook hands and parted. Next morning, I spoke of
this meeting to a mutual friend, and then I learnt, for the first time,
that the man had died six months before.

The natural inference was that I had mistaken one man for another, an
error that, not having a good memory for faces, I frequently fall into.
What was remarkable about the matter, however, was that throughout our
walk I had conversed with the man under the impression that he was that
other dead man, and, whether by coincidence or not, his replies had
never once suggested to me my mistake.

As soon as I finished, Jephson, who had been listening very
thoughtfully, asked me if I believed in spiritualism "to its fullest
extent."

"That is rather a large question," I answered. "What do you mean by
'spiritualism to its fullest extent'?"