 There are people so thoroughly conventional and so eminently proper that one feels nothing unusual could ever happen to them. And yet, such people appear again and again in the Chronicles of the Incredible. Consider, for example, the strange experience of Miss Beheadable Scott on the road from St. Boswells. It had been Miss Scott's custom to spend one afternoon each week in the company of a sister. Since the two elderly spinsters lived in neighboring towns, they had decided that it was only fair that they should meet halfway on the road that ran between. And so, on the afternoon of the 7th of May, 1893, Miss Beheadable Scott left her home in St. Boswells, Rockfordshire, and set out to keep her appointment. But she had scarcely reached the outskirts of the town when she heard the church clock announcing the hour. Oh, good heavens! It's four o'clock. I'm late. I've never been late before. I know what I'll do. It's not ladylike, and I've never done it before, but I'm going to do it anyway. I'm going to run. With rapid mincing steps, she's spread along the roads. For several moments she ran, and then suddenly she stops. Oh, fuck! There's a gentleman up ahead there. Dear me, where did he come from? A man had materialized before her as if out of thin air, who's a tall, lean gentleman dressed all in black like a clergyman. I can't run. I passed him. That would be too undignified. Five minutes later, the gentleman ahead turned a slight bend in the road. He was still visible, however, at least the upper part of his body was above a low hedge. And Beheadable, having an opportunity now to observe his face, was watching him quite closely when... He's still me. He's disappeared. One moment the clergyman had been quite visible. The next, he was gone. Beheadable blinked several times in wonder and disbelief. There were no trees there behind which a man might hide. There were no side roads. There was only the hedge, which could not possibly conceal anyone. The hedge and open country as far as the eye could reach. And there were no signs of the clergyman. But Beheadable Scott refused to accept the evidence of her senses. She decided she knew the explanation. It serves me right for running. I should have known better. Running overheats the plane, and an overheated brain can play all sorts of things. There wasn't any clergyman at all. A few yards beyond the bend in the road, Beheadable's sister waited at the usual meeting place. Beheadable approached her with effusive apology. Oh, you poor dear. I'm so dreadfully sorry. Why? I'm at least 15 minutes late. Oh, oh yes, there you are. I've had something else in my mind, Beheadable. It was the strangest thing that ever happened to me. Or twice, dear. A man. A man dressed all in black. He came around that bend in the road just a few minutes ago. Yes. I saw him distinctly. And then, I know you won't believe this, Beheadable. Then he disappeared before my very eyes. Men who have the power to make themselves invisible have always belonged in the province of the writer of fantastic fiction. But perhaps, had this story been allowed to gain wider currency, we might have been forced long ago to revise our opinions. Or if no one can make himself invisible, then how shall we explain the experience of Ms. Beheadable's god and her sister? An experience incredible, but true.