"You know it is given to people, sometimes, to choose between good and evil.

I'm afraid"-- she leant forward, and passed her right hand, with a touch of tenderness most unusual with her, over his upturned face and curly hair--"I'm afraid, Bill, that, almost without knowing it, I chose evil, 'Evil, be thou my good.' Isn't that what the wicked old Satanists used to say ?" "Don't you say it too!" he exclaimed, sharply distressed.
"I know I acted stupidly--in fact, as we're in a church I don't mind saying I acted very wrongly last night." Bubbles spoke in a serious tone--more seriously, indeed, than she had ever yet spoken to her faithful, long-suffering friend.

"But a great deal of what happens to me and round me, Bill, I can't help--I wish I could," she said slowly.
"I don't quite understand." There was a painful choking feeling in his throat.

"Try and tell me what you mean, Bubbles." "What I mean is clear enough"-- she now spoke with a touch of impatience.
"I mean that wherever I am, _They_ come too, and gather about me.

It wasn't my fault that that horrible Thing appeared to Pegler as soon as I entered the house." "But why should you think the ghost Pegler saw--if she did see it--had anything to do with you?
Wyndfell Hall has been haunted for over a hundred years--so the village people say." "Pegler saw nothing till I came.