All of the League members were intrigued by Mr. Skinner's sudden infatuation, and so the next evening found everyone getting ready for a theatrical performance. Mina was the last to join the company at the door, and the men were a bit surprised to find that she looked absolutely stunning. They couldn't recall ever having seen Mina dressed for a formal occasion such as this. The doctor immediately stepped forward and somewhat timorously offered his arm. Mina took it with a gracious smile.
"Now, there's one thing Oi failed to mention last noight," Skinner told them as he led the party out the door. "She doesn't know Oi'm invisible, so Oi should appreciate it if you didn't comment on it."
"How…how exactly is that possible?" Tom asked.
"You'll foind out," said Skinner.
The performance turned out to be even better than the night before. After the play was over, Skinner led the way to the backstage dressing rooms. The others noticed that he was holding a single white rose in his hand.
He knocked on Miss Leigh's door and she called to them to please come in. As they entered, everyone watched Skinner closely. Much to their surprise, he went over to where Miss Leigh sat at her dressing table, took her hand, and kissed it with an air of true gallantry that no one had ever before observed in him.
"Miss Leigh," he said, handing her the rose. "Your performance wos lovely."
"Thank you, Mr. Smith," she said, blushing timidly and toying with the rose. It was clear that the two were already quite fond of each other's company.
"Allow me ta introduce moy friends," said Skinner, but he did not go on to introduce them by name. The others guessed that this was to keep her from knowing who they were. They had guessed that this was also the reason she had addressed him as Mr. Smith. But why hadn't she been at all alarmed by his singular appearance?
"Pleased to meet you all," said Miss Leigh. "I hope you enjoyed the performance as well."
She looked up at them with a cheerful expression…only she didn't quite look at them; rather, she looked in their general direction. Suddenly, it was awkwardly obvious why she wasn't put off by Skinner's appearance.
She was blind.
Jekyll broke the uneasy silence by saying, "The performance was quite pleasant, thank you. You are a great talent, Miss Leigh."
"Thank you…" said Miss Leigh, uncertain as to who was addressing her.
"Doctor…Edward…Hyde, at your service, miss," said Jekyll slowly, hoping that she wasn't familiar with the name of his alter ego.
"A pleasure, doctor," said Miss Leigh.
"Were you always blind, Miss Leigh?" Jekyll inquired. "Forgive me if the question offends, but as a medical doctor I find your condition intriguing."
"Oh no, I wasn't always blind," said Miss Leigh. "It happened only about three years ago."
"May I be so bold as to ask how it happened?" said Jekyll.
"An accident onstage," said Miss Leigh. "I was still in the corps de ballet. A backdrop fell from the fly space during a rehearsal and hit me in the head. I was lucky to be blinded and not killed."
Jekyll noticed that Skinner seemed to start upon hearing that, but it was so brief that Jekyll thought he must've imagined it.
He hadn't.
Miss Leigh's story was eerily similar to an unfortunate accident Skinner had been involved in about three years back. He had once been a fly man at the Apollo Theater. It was an ideal job for a man in his unusual situation. The theatre owners, being in the theatre business, had seen stranger things than a man who painted his exposed skin white, and in the darkness backstage no one would think twice about not being able to see him. However, his employment at the theatre hadn't lasted long. One day, a rope holding up a backdrop had snapped in the middle of a ballet rehearsal, potentially resulting in severe – perhaps fatal – injuries. Skinner had fled the scene immediately, for fear he would be blamed and have charges pressed against him. He had never returned to the theatre again…until now. Hearing Miss Leigh's story had surprised him. Was it possible he was responsible for her blindness? Or was the similarity of the accidents a mere coincidence? It couldn't possibly be chance, he thought. There couldn't have been two accidents so similar in every detail that occurred at approximately the same time.
He was responsible. It was an intimidating thought.
Emily invited them all to dine with her, an invitation that they were pleased to accept. Afterward, they walked Emily back to the theater, where she lived in a dorm, and then returned to the Nautilus. No on spoke as they hung up their coats – all but Skinner, of course – until Dr. Jekyll broke the silence by saying, "I believe I could help her."
"What do you mean?" Mina asked.
"She mentioned that her condition was caused by a blow to the head," Dr. Jekyll explained. "If that's the case, an operation could restore her sight."
"It could be dangerous, though," Tom pointed out. "That's a pretty big decision."
"Well, the decision would be up to Miss Leigh herself," said Mina.
"Most certainly," said the doctor. "But I feel that it's my duty as a physician to make all available options known to her."
"It's a bad idea," said Skinner suddenly. The others looked at him.
"Is it?" Mina asked.
"The death rate from operations is awfully high, isn't it?" Skinner asked.
"No higher than what is normal for such a procedure," said Jekyll. "The benefits could outweigh the risks. It depends on how Miss Leigh feels about the matter."
"Oi still say it's a bad idea," said Skinner. Then he bid everyone goodnight and went to his room.
"What's gotten into him?" Tom wondered aloud.
"Heaven knows," said Mina, looking exasperated. "If you ask me, the man is one card short of a full deck."
The next morning, Skinner was surprised to find himself with a sudden inclination to wear clothing. What he put on was nothing extraordinary, just a simple outfit of a plain black shirt and black trousers along with the rest of his usual attire. But the point was that he did put it on. He hadn't had any particular desire to wear real clothes since he'd become invisible, but for some reason the idea of calling on Emily in only a hat, coat, and some paint was disturbing to him. It was unusual, though he knew well by now that going about with nothing on wasn't all that it was made out to be. He'd fallen ill countless times on account of it, and he had stared death in the face more often than he cared to think about. But the worst part of it all was the loneliness. He hadn't counted on that. It was a sharp pain, thinking of all the friends he'd once had, friends that had since forgotten he even existed. When he'd first become invisible, he'd been able to start off a conversation with his friends easily enough, but after awhile they would begin to talk as though he weren't even in the room. He'd eventually devised that hat, coat, and paint to remind them of his presence. It had helped a little, but not enough. Now they remembered that he was there, but they regarded him as some kind of supernatural being. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make them understand that he was still the same living, breathing, feeling Rodney Skinner he'd always been. He felt like a shadow, a ghost with no place among the living, so he'd gone off to continue his work on his own.
As it turned out, invisibility had never helped him in his profession. The only effect it'd had was to make people think that whatever it was he was trying to steal was either levitating or possessed by some evil spirit, or both! He'd had so many prayers said over him that he was certain he was the holiest thief in all England. The one real reason he'd turned himself invisible…and it had all come to naught. All he was left with was a huge mistake that had destroyed his life as he knew it. He'd been forced into a new life, a life worse than that of the poorest beggar, but with one crucial difference. At least people were aware of the beggar's need. Skinner had only his own intelligence to rely on.
These days, the League had come into the picture and his life had changed again, this time for the better. They had made something of a hero out of him. An unorthodox hero, to be sure, but a hero nonetheless. He was much happier now than he'd ever been as a thief, but of course he wouldn't reveal that to the others. He had too much fun observing them as they attempted to divine his true character. Besides, how could they divine his character if he hadn't yet divined it himself? Truth be told, he wasn't altogether sure he wanted to give up his thief's life. It was the only life he'd ever known.
"Why, Mr. Skinner!" Mina exclaimed when he entered the dining room for breakfast. "You're…dressed."
"As you see," said Skinner rather flatly, being at the moment immersed in his own thoughts.
"May I inquire as to what effected this change?" Mina asked.
"Oi woke up in a strange mood this mornin'," said Skinner. He ate very little and then immediately set off to call upon Miss Leigh.
She greeted him warmly and introduced him to the ballerina who shared her dorm, a young lady of French origin by the name of Marie St. Aubin. They had become friends while they performed together in the corps de ballet and had remained close friends ever since.Marie seemed a bit taken aback by Skinner's strange appearance but made no comment. She merely greeted him politely, and the three of them proceeded to converse pleasantly for about fifteen minutes. Then Skinner invited Miss Leigh to take a walk with him, and she readily obliged. He offered his arm as they set off, and she took it with a smile.
"There's…something strange about you," she remarked after some time.
"Oh?" Skinner asked.
"You seem to feel somehow…out of place," said Miss Leigh. Skinner laughed bitterly.
"Believe me, you 'ave no idea," he told her.
"What do you mean?" Miss Leigh asked.
"Oi feel out of place simply because Oi 'ave no place," Skinner explained. "There's no room in society for a man loike me."
"Everyone has a place," said Miss Leigh.
"Oi used to think that," said Skinner. "Nowadays Oi think differently."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Miss Leigh. "There's a place for you somewhere, Mr. Smith. You only have to find it."
"Oi gave up lookin' a long toime ago," Skinner said quietly.
"I can't imagine what can have happened that killed your hope so," said Miss Leigh. "It must have been something dreadful."
"Well…wot about you?" Skinner asked, changing the subject before he let something slip. "You told us about your accident. That must've been dreadful as well."
"I'll never dance again," said Miss Leigh with a small sigh. "I found such joy in dancing, but now I must find it in acting."
"Doesn' sound too enjoyable," said Skinner.
"I gather you've never experienced losing your sight," said Miss Leigh.
"Not quite," said Skinner, thinking of what he saw in the mirror every morning.
Nothing.
He paused to pick a wildflower and put it in Miss Leigh's hand. Miss Leigh gently fingered the petals for a moment, smiling.
"What color?" she asked.
"White," said Skinner. "A Morning Glory."
"Lovely," said Miss Leigh. She looked up at him, and it somehow seemed to Skinner that she was looking him straight in the eye.
