"D'you mean you think you actually see spirits, even when you're not setting out to do so, Bubbles?" asked. Bill. She had never said that to him before. But then this was the first time she had ever talked to him as freely and as frankly as she was talking now. "Yes, that's exactly what I do mean," she said. "It's a sort of power that grows--and oh, Bill, I'd do anything in the world to get rid of it! But this woman whom I saw standing by Lionel Varick in the porch was not a spirit. She was an astral body; that is, she was alive somewhere else: it was her thoughts--her vengeful, malicious thoughts--which brought her here." "I can't believe that!" he exclaimed. "It's true, Bill. Though I never saw an astral body before, I knew that Thing to be one--as soon as I realized it wasn't a real woman standing there." "What was she like?" he asked, impressed against his will. "An ugly, commonplace-looking woman. But she had a powerful, determined sort of face, and she was staring up at him with a horrible expression: I could see that she hated him, and wished him ill--" "Have you ever seen the--the Thing again?" Yes, of course I have. The same astral body was there last night. It was from her that his mother was trying to shield him." "But you've never seen this astral body--as you call it--excepting on those two occasions?" Bubbles hesitated. "I've only seen her clearly twice. But during the week that I've been here, I've often felt that she was close to Lionel Varick." "And what's your theory about her? Why does she hate him, I mean?" "My theory--?" the girl hesitated again. "I should think it's someone he was fond of when he was a young man, and whom he treated badly. She's ugly enough now--but then women do change so." "Bubbles," he uttered her name very seriously. "Yes, Bill?" "Surely you can stop yourself seeing these kind of strange, dreadful, unnatural things?" Bubbles did not answer all at once. And then she said: "Yes--and no, Bill! It sometimes happens that I see what you would call a ghost without wishing to see it; yet I confess that sometimes I _could_ stop myself. But it excites and stimulates me! I feel a sort of longing to be in touch with what no one else is in touch with. But I'll tell you one thing"--she was pressing up closer to him now, and his heart was beating.... If only this enchanted hour could go on--if only Bubbles would continue in this gentle, sincere, confiding mood-- "Yes," he said hoarsely, "what will you tell me?" "I never see anything bad when I'm with you. I think I saw your Guardian Angel the other day, Bill." He tried to laugh. "Indeed I did! Though you are so tiresome and priggish," she whispered, "though often, as you know, I should like to shake you, still, I know that you've chosen the good way; that's why our ways lie so apart, dearest--" As she uttered the strange words, she had slid down, and was now lying in his arms, her face turned up to his in the dim light....