Madge, persuaded that the woman must be either mad or drunk, felt that perhaps calmness might be her safest weapon. "Do you mean that you're the landlady?" "The landlady!" The woman laughed--unmirthfully. "There is no landlady. And the landlord--he's a ghost. He's in it now--don't you feel that he is in it?" She spoke with such singular intensity that, in spite of herself, Madge shuddered. She was feeling more and more uncomfortable--wishing heartily that some one might come, if it was only the mysterious stranger who had previously intruded. The woman went on--her excitement seeming to grow with every word she uttered. "The house is full of ghosts--full! They're in every corner, every nook and cranny--and I know them every one. Come here--I'll show you some of them." She caught the girl by the arm. Madge, yielding to her strange frenzy, suffered herself to be led into the sitting-room. Once inside, the woman loosed her hold. She looked about her. Then crossed to the fireplace, standing in the centre of the hearthrug. "This is where I struck him." She pointed just in front of her. "He was sitting there. I had asked him for some money. He would not let me have any. He always clung to his money--always! I swear it--always!" She raised her hands, as if appealing to the ceiling to bear her witness. "He said that I was ruining him. Ruining him? bah! I knew better than that. He would let no one ruin him--he was not of that kind. I told him I must have money. He said he'd given me five pounds last week. 'Five pounds!' I cried; 'what are five pounds?' Then we quarrelled--he said things, I said things. Then I flew into a rage; my temper has been the curse of my whole life. I caught up a decanter of whisky which was on the table, and struck him with it on the head. The bottle broke, the whisky went all over him--how it smelt! Can't you smell it?--and he went tumbling down, down, on to the floor. He's lying there now--can't you see him lying there?" She turned to Madge with a gesture which seemed to make the girl's blood run colder. "Can't you see the ghost?" She moved a little to one side. "Just here is where I knelt down, and asked him to forgive me. That was after--I'd been carrying on with some fellow I'd met at a dance, and he had found me out. I cried and cried as if my heart would break, and at last he came and put his hand upon my head--when I set myself to do it, and stuck at it, I could twist him round my finger!--and he began to stroke my hair--I'd lovely hair then, no woman ever had lovelier, and he was always one to stroke it when I'd let him!--and he said, 'My girl, how often shall I have to forgive you?' Listen! Can't you hear him saying it now? Can't you see the ghost?" She went to where the modest sideboard stood.