“Just my luck!” he commented. “Greta’s read your book, Mr. Klaw, and if she hasn’t fixed it yet she’s sure to come to it that The Park and The Grove are one and the same. It was largely because of her I arranged this trip,” he added. “The trouble I’ve told you about got on her nerves and she had the idea some guy was tracking her around. The medicos said it was a common enough symptom and ordered a change. Anyhow, I quitted, to give her a chance to tone up. Confound this business!” He ultimately left quite determined to change his place of residence. But so averse was his practical mind from the idea of inconveniencing oneself on such ghostly grounds, that two weeks slipped by, and still the Haufmanns occupied The Grove. The decoration of Moris Klaw’s establishment being presumably still in progress, Klaw accompanied me on more than one other occasion to visit Shan Haufmann and the girls. At last, one afternoon, Greta asked him point-blank if he thought the house to be that dealt with in “Psychic Angles.” Of course, he had to admit that it was so; but far from exhibiting any signs of alarm, the girl appeared to be delighted. “How dense I have been!” she cried. “I should have known it from the description! As a matter of fact, I might never have found out, but this morning the servants resigned unanimously!” Klaw looked at me significantly. All was befalling as we had foreseen. “They told you, then!” he said. “Yes? No?” “They said the house was haunted,” she replied, “but they didn’t seem to know much more about it. That simple fact was enough for them!” Haufmann came in and in answer to our queries declared himself helpless. “Lal and Greta won’t quit,” he declared; “so what’s to do? I’ve cabled for servants from home. Meanwhile, we’re at the mercy of day girls and charwomen!” The concern evinced by Moris Klaw was very great. He seized an early opportunity of taking Haufmann aside and questioning him relative to the situation of the rooms occupied by the family. “My room overlooks the avenue,” replied Haufmann, “and so does Greta’s. Lal’s is on the opposite side. Come up and see them!” Klaw and I accompanied him. It was a beautiful clear day, and from his window we gazed along the majestic ranks of poplars, motionless as a giant guard, in the still summer air. It was difficult to conjure up a glamour of the uncanny, with the bright sunlight pouring gladness upon trees, flowers, shrubs, and lawn. “This is the room from which the whisper is the most clearly audible!” said Moris Klaw. “I could tell you--ah! I spent several nights here!” “The devil you did,” rapped Haufmann. “I must sleep pretty soundly. I’ve never heard a thing. Greta’s room is next on the right. She has said nothing.” Klaw looked troubled.