None the less, no servant would go alone, if she could help it, into either passage after dark; and there was much excited marvelling how Miss Boyce could sleep where she did.

Deacon abounded in stories of things spiritual and peripatetic, of steps, groans, lights in the library, and the rest.

Marcella had consistently laughed at her.
Yet all the same she had made in secret a very diligent pursuit of this ghost, settling in the end to a certain pique with him that he would not show himself to so ardent a daughter of the house.

She had sat up waiting for him; she had lingered in the corridor outside, and on the stairs, expecting him.

By the help of a favourite carpenter she had made researches into roofs, water-pipes, panelling, and old cupboards, in the hope of finding a practical clue to him.