so I looked her all over as careful as I had before, then I got kind of scart; I hadn’t never been in a room alone with anyone that was dead, except at the morgue; but, of course, this was worse than anything of that kind. I’d always heard more or less about ghosts and haunted houses and things like that, and didn’t believe anything of the kind, but they seemed to come back now when I looked over where she was layin’. I was afraid of ever’thing, not of people but of ghosts and things I couldn’t tell nothin’ about. I knew she was dead and must have gone somewhere, and most likely she was right ‘round here either in the bedroom lookin’ at the boy or out here seein’ how I felt and what I was goin’ to do with her. Just then I heard somethin’ move over by the closet and it scart me almost to death. I knew it must be her and couldn’t bear to see her unless she could come to life on the floor. Finally I looked around to where I heard the noise and then I seen it was the curtain; the window was down a little at the top. I went and put up the window, and then hated to turn ‘round and look back where she lay. Then I went to the bedroom door and opened it about half way just so the light wouldn’t fall on the bed and wake him up, but so I could hear him breathe and it wouldn’t be quite so lonesome. Ever’thing was awful still and like a ghost except the clock, after I got to thinkin’ of it. Then it ticked so loud I was almost ‘fraid they’d hear it in the next house. When I got the bedroom door open I thought I must do somethin’ about her and the room before I made up my mind what plan to take about myself.