Skinner didn't visit or otherwise allow Emily to see him after that, but whenever he could spare a moment he was watching her from the concealment of his invisibility. He became something of a theater ghost as stories began to circulate about programmes hovering in the air at the back of the theater during a performance. Skinner didn't care what manner of supernatural horror the performers thought he was, as long as he could watch Emily. She was dancing with the corps de ballet again, and Skinner could see why her former inability to dance had caused her such regret. She was one of the best dancers in the company, and whenever she danced her love for the art was written plainly on her every feature. Skinner knew now that he could never have lived with himself knowing he had kept that from her.
As for Emily, she had no clue as to what had become of her dear John Smith. She couldn't visit him, write him letters, or get any other form of communication to him, for he had never left an address and she had never thought to ask. All she could do was worry about him, which she did constantly, and her friend, Marie St. Aubin, began to grow increasingly worried about her.
For three months, Skinner continued to observe Emily from a distance. Occasionally, he would leave a rose on her dressing table after a performance, but never with any indication as to who the giver might be. He was in an almost constant state of melancholy, and though the other members of the League had no way of knowing it, it was affecting his health. No one could have guessed how incredibly thin he had grown, or how tired he looked from his many sleepless nights, or how pale his skin really was. Even Skinner himself had no way of knowing these things beyond what he could feel, and he was quite used to ignoring that. The others knew he was depressed and tried their best to boost his spirits back to their characteristic liveliness, but with little success. Beyond that, they didn't feel it was their place to meddle. However, one day something happened that forced them to meddle. While returning home from one of the League's various missions, Skinner collapsed in a hallway. No one knew anything about it until Tom nearly tripped over him.
"Skinner?" he asked. "Skinner, is that you?"
He knelt down and touched what he estimated to be the Invisible Man's face. He had estimated correctly, and he was surprised to find Skinner quite cold.
"Jekyll!" he called. "Jekyll, I think you'd better get over here!"
Jekyll soon arrived on the scene, and Tom's shouting had caught the attention of Mina and Nemo as well. Jekyll began to examine Skinner and ordered Tom to find Skinner's tin of greasepaint. Tom sprinted down the hall to Skinner's room, but he had some apprehension about going in. No one had ever seen the interior of Skinner's room. Skinner would surely be furious if he knew what Tom was about to do, but it was for his own good. Tom threw open the door and looked around. He noticed that the one mirror in the room was shattered. Then, spying Skinner's coat hanging on a coat tree in the corner, he grabbed it and made a hasty retreat. He handed the coat to Jekyll, who covered Skinner with it and then fished the tin of paint out of one of the pockets.
"Is he all right?" Tom asked with concern.
"We're about to find out," said Jekyll.
"Perhaps he suffered a blow to the head," Nemo suggested.
"How?" Tom asked. "He's not tall enough to have hit his head on a doorway or light fixture…is he?"
"I think that if he were this would have happened long before now," said Jekyll.
"Perhaps he harmed himself intentionally," said Mina. Tom looked at her with a start. The thought of Skinner committing such a horrible crime made his skin crawl.
"Skinner wouldn't do that," he said, trying to sound confident. "Not the Skinner I know."
"Well, it's not as though Skinner can tell us what happened," said Mina. "We must consider every possibility."
"It isn't likely that he's harmed himself," said Jekyll. "Not intentionally, anyway. From the look of him, I'd say he hasn't been eating enough."
Skinner was moved to the sick bay and left under Jekyll's supervision, while Tom stayed by choice. Skinner came to only minutes later.
"Wot 'appened?" he asked drowsily.
"You collapsed in the hallway," said Jekyll matter-of-factly.
"Wot?"
"I almost tripped over you," said Tom, looking quite upset.
"Did Oi…get knocked out?"
"I'd say so."
"Boy whom?"
"Skinner, shut up. You know what happened."
"Oi…do?"
"Stop it!" Tom shouted, while Jekyll pretended to be busy looking through his medicines.
"Wot?" Skinner asked helplessly. "Wot did Oi do?"
"You're starving yourself, Skinner!" said Tom, still shouting. "Don't you even realize that? You're killing yourself, you idiot!"
" 'Ey now…" said Skinner, sitting up.
"Don't ' 'Ey now' me!" said Tom, shoving him back down.
"Oi'll ' 'Ey now' whoeva Oi loike!" said Skinner as he got to his feet. He started to leave, but Jekyll stopped him.
"Skinner, we all know what's causing this shocking decline in your health," he said.
"It's none of your affair," Skinner told him gruffly.
"Let us help you," Jekyll offered.
"No thanks," said Skinner, once again turning to leave.
"Why don't you just visit her, for gosh sake?" said Tom.
"She'll understand," Jekyll added in an attempt to soften the blow of Tom's harsh words.
"Understand?" said Skinner, sounding skeptical. "Understand wot? That Oi'm not the normal John Smith she thinks Oi am? That Oi loied to 'er? Oi'm sure she'd understand that."
"Well, then you'd be no worse off," said Tom. "But are you just going to throw away the chance that she will understand?"
"There wos never a chance to begin with!" said Skinner. "It can't work, Sawyer. It just can't. The Invisible Man invades everythin' Oi do. If she's ever mentioned in connection with me, she'll be in danger. Not that she'd ever want to be connected with me afta wot Oi've done."
"Give her a chance, Skinner," Jekyll advised. "People can surprise you."
"Not in moy experience," said Skinner bitterly.
"Well, then you were right," said Tom. "You don't deserve her."
Despite this incident, things didn't seem to change. Skinner's mood was not improved and he continued to observe Emily whenever he was able. By this time, Emily had a new suitor: Sir Sidney Warren, a rich patron of the Apollo Theater. Skinner had often seen him at performances and theater galas and he had distinct misgivings about the way the man looked at Emily. Emily, on the other hand, seemed to be aware of nothing of the sort. Indeed, she didn't seem to be aware that Sir Warren even existed, for she paid him very little mind. But he was persistent in his attentions, so Skinner resolved to keep a close eye on him.
Sir Warren made Skinner's mood even darker. When Mina had the unhappy chance to mention at dinner one day that she had seen Emily taking a walk with said Sir Warren, Skinner flew into a rage.
"Someone ought to know betta than to allow her out alone with that fiend!" he said. "Roight free with 'is 'ands, that one. 'E isn't to be trusted in a lady's company for a second."
"Someone does know better," said Tom, glaring at Skinner. "He's just choosing to do nothing about it."
Skinner threw down his knife, which stuck in the floor, and stalked out of the room.
"My goodness," said Mina. Dinner continued in a somewhat awkward silence, until the sound of someone playing the pianoforte in the lounge could be heard.
"That couldn't be…Skinner?" Tom asked, incredulous.
"Indeed, the man is full of surprises," said Mina, raising her eyebrows as a series of haunting arpeggios filled the room. She excused herself and walked toward the lounge to listen. She paused just outside the doorway and was soon joined by Jekyll, Nemo, and Tom. Skinner, sitting at the pianoforte, had his back turned and didn't see them. His gloves were sitting beside him on the bench and the keys seemed to move of their own accord. It was an unusual sight, not only because his hands were invisible but also because it was Skinner – Rodney Skinner, the Invisible Man – playing the pianoforte, and quite well at that. He made not one single mistake, and when the song ended, he lapsed immediately into another. There was no music in front of him; he played from memory. When the last chord had faded, Doctor Jekyll began to applaud. Skinner jumped and turned around.
"Expertly done, Mr. Skinner," said Jekyll. "However did you become such a proficient?"
"Oi 'ad lessons before moy parents died," Skinner explained.
"You must have a great natural talent to play so well with so few lessons and such a limited access to an instrument," said Jekyll.
"Oi wouldn't know," said Skinner, shrugging. "Oi've just always done it. Oi've certainly improved over the years from the toimes Oi've been able to play. An' Oi s'pose it 'elps when you wrote the songs yourself."
"You wrote those?" Tom asked in disbelief.
"Sure," said Skinner. "There's really nothin' to it. You just sit down an'…well, play."
So saying, he turned and started on a new song.
