The Invisible Man
Mr. Marvel Discusses His Resignation
When the dusk was gathering and Iping was just beginning to peep timorously forth again
upon the shattered wreckage of its Bank Holiday, a short, thickset man in a shabby silk
hat was marching painfully through the twilight behind the beechwoods on the road to
Bramblehurst. He carried three books bound together by some sort of ornamental elastic
ligature, and a bundle wrapped in a blue table-cloth. His rubicund face expressed
consternation and fatigue; he appeared to be in a spasmodic sort of hurry. He was
accompanied by a Voice other than his own, and ever and again he winced under the
touch of unseen hands.
"If you give me the slip again," said the Voice; "if you attempt to give me the slip
again -- "
"Lord!" said Mr. Marvel. "That shoulder's a mass of bruises as it is."
" -- on my honour," said the Voice, "I will kill you."
"I didn't try to give you the slip," said Marvel, in a voice that was not far remote from
tears. "I swear I didn't. I didn't know the blessed turning, that was all! How the devil was
I to know the blessed turning? As it is, I've been knocked about -- "
"You'll get knocked about a great deal more if you don't mind," said the Voice, and
Mr. Marvel abruptly became silent. He blew out his cheeks, and his eyes were eloquent
"It's bad enough to let these floundering yokels explode my little secret, without your
cutting off with my books. It's lucky for some of them they cut and ran when they did!
Here am I -- No one knew I was invisible! And now what am I to do?"
"What am I to do?" asked Marvel, sotto voce.
"It's all about. It will be in the papers! Everybody will be looking for me; everyone on
their guard -- " The Voice broke off into vivid curses and ceased.
The despair of Mr. Marvel's face deepened, and his pace slacked.
"Go on!" said the Voice.
Mr. Marvel's face assumed a greyish tint between the ruddier patches.
"Don't drop those books, stupid," said the Voice, sharply -- overtaking him.
"The fact is," said the Voice, "I shall have but to make use of you. You're a poor tool,
but I must."