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1The Time Traveller Returns I think that at that time none of us quite believed in the Time Machine. The fact is, the
2Time Traveller was one of those men who are too clever to be believed: you never felt that you saw all round him; you
3always suspected some subtle reserve, some ingenuity in ambush, behind his lucid frankness. Had Filby shown the model
4and explained the matter in the Time Traveller's words, we should have shown him far less scepticism. For we should have
5perceived his motives: a pork-butcher could understand Filby. But the Time Traveller had more than a touch of whim among
6his elements, and we distrusted him. Things that would have made the fame of a less clever man seemed tricks in his
7hands. It is a mistake to do things too easily. The serious people who took him seriously never felt quite sure of his
8deportment; they were somehow aware that trusting their reputations for judgment with him was like furnishing a nursery
9with eggshell china. So I don't think any of us said very much about time travelling in the interval between that
10Thursday and the next, though its odd potentialities ran, no doubt, in most of our minds: its plausibility, that is, its
11practical incredibleness, the curious possibilities of anachronism and of utter confusion it suggested. For my own part,
12I was particularly preoccupied with the trick of the model. That I remember discussing with the Medical Man, whom I met
13on Friday at the Linnæan. He said he had seen a similar thing at Tübingen, and laid considerable stress on the
14blowing-out of the candle. But how the trick was done he could not explain. The next Thursday I went again to
15Richmond--I suppose I was one of the Time Traveller's most constant guests--and, arriving late, found four or five men
16already assembled in his drawing-room. The Medical Man was standing before the fire with a sheet of paper in one hand
17and his watch in the other. I looked round for the Time Traveller, and--"It's half-past seven now," said the Medical
18Man. "I suppose we'd better have dinner?" "Where's----?" said I, naming our host. "You've just come? It's rather odd.
19He's unavoidably detained. He asks me in this note to lead off with dinner at seven if he's not back. Says he'll explain
20when he comes." "It seems a pity to let the dinner spoil," said the Editor of a well-known daily paper; and thereupon
21the Doctor rang the bell. The Psychologist was the only person besides the Doctor and myself who had attended the
22previous dinner. The other men were Blank, the Editor aforementioned, a certain journalist, and another--a quiet, shy
23man with a beard--whom I didn't know, and who, as far as my observation went, never opened his mouth all the evening.
24There was some speculation at the dinner-table about the Time Traveller's absence, and I suggested time travelling, in a
25half-jocular spirit. The Editor wanted that explained to him, and the Psychologist volunteered a wooden account of the
26"ingenious paradox and trick" we had witnessed that day week. He was in the midst of his exposition when the door from
27the corridor opened slowly and without noise. I was facing the door, and saw it first. "Hallo!" I said. "At last!" And
28the door opened wider, and the Time Traveller stood before us. I gave a cry of surprise. "Good heavens! man, what's the
29matter?" cried the Medical Man, who saw him next. And the whole tableful turned towards the door. He was in an amazing
30plight. His coat was dusty and dirty, and smeared with green down the sleeves; his hair disordered, and as it seemed to
31me greyer--either with dust and dirt or because its colour had actually faded. His face was ghastly pale; his chin had a
32brown cut on it--a cut half-healed; his expression was haggard and drawn, as by intense suffering. For a moment he
33hesitated in the doorway, as if he had been dazzled by the light. Then he came into the room. He walked with just such a
34limp as I have seen in footsore tramps. We stared at him in silence, expecting him to speak. He said not a word, but
35came painfully to the table, and made a motion towards the wine. The Editor filled a glass of champagne, and pushed it
36towards him. He drained it, and it seemed to do him good: for he looked round the table, and the ghost of his old smile
37flickered across his face. "What on earth have you been up to, man?" said the Doctor. The Time Traveller did not seem to
38hear. "Don't let me disturb you," he said, with a certain faltering articulation. "I'm all right." He stopped, held out
39his glass for more, and took it off at a draught. "That's good," he said. His eyes grew brighter, and a faint colour
40came into his cheeks. His glance flickered over our faces with a certain dull approval, and then went round the warm and
41comfortable room. Then he spoke again, still as it were feeling his way among his words. "I'm going to wash and dress,
42and then I'll come down and explain things.... Save me some of that mutton. I'm starving for a bit of meat." He looked
43across at the Editor, who was a rare visitor, and hoped he was all right. The Editor began a question. "Tell you
44presently," said the Time Traveller. "I'm--funny! Be all right in a minute." He put down his glass, and walked towards
45the staircase door. Again I remarked his lameness and the soft padding sound of his footfall, and standing up in my
46place, I saw his feet as he went out. He had nothing on them but a pair of tattered, blood-stained socks. Then the door
47closed upon him. I had half a mind to follow, till I remembered how he detested any fuss about himself. For a minute,
48perhaps, my mind was wool-gathering. Then, "Remarkable Behaviour of an Eminent Scientist," I heard the Editor say,
49thinking (after his wont) in headlines. And this brought my attention back to the bright dinner-table. "What's the
50game?" said the Journalist. "Has he been doing the Amateur Cadger? I don't follow." I met the eye of the Psychologist,
51and read my own interpretation in his face. I thought of the Time Traveller limping painfully upstairs. I don't think
52anyone else had noticed his lameness. The first to recover completely from this surprise was the Medical Man, who rang
53the bell--the Time Traveller hated to have servants waiting at dinner--for a hot plate. At that the Editor turned to his
54knife and fork with a grunt, and the Silent Man followed suit. The dinner was resumed. Conversation was exclamatory for
55a little while with gaps of wonderment; and then the Editor got fervent in his curiosity. "Does our friend eke out his
56modest income with a crossing? or has he his Nebuchadnezzar phases?" he inquired. "I feel assured it's this business of
57the Time Machine," I said, and took up the Psychologist's account of our previous meeting. The new guests were frankly
58incredulous. The Editor raised objections. "What was this time travelling? A man couldn't cover himself with dust by
59rolling in a paradox, could he?" And then, as the idea came home to him, he resorted to caricature. Hadn't they any
60clothes-brushes in the Future? The Journalist too, would not believe at any price, and joined the Editor in the easy
61work of heaping ridicule on the whole thing. They were both the new kind of journalist--very joyous, irreverent young
62men. "Our Special Correspondent in the Day after Tomorrow reports," the Journalist was saying--or rather shouting--when
63the Time Traveller came back. He was dressed in ordinary evening clothes, and nothing save his haggard look remained of
64the change that had startled me. "I say," said the Editor hilariously, "these chaps here say you have been travelling
65into the middle of next week! Tell us all about little Rosebery, will you? What will you take for the lot?" The Time
66Traveller came to the place reserved for him without a word. He smiled quietly, in his old way. "Where's my mutton?" he
67said. "What a treat it is to stick a fork into meat again!" "Story!" cried the Editor. "Story be damned!" said the Time
68Traveller. "I want something to eat. I won't say a word until I get some peptone into my arteries. Thanks. And the
69salt." "One word," said I. "Have you been time travelling?" "Yes," said the Time Traveller, with his mouth full, nodding
70his head.
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