I must admit, I was in a bit of a panic. It must have shown in my face.
‘What’s the matter?’ George asked, as I almost fell into his study.
‘Oh, nothing,’ I answered. ‘I dropped my candle and lost my way.’
‘But who were you talking to? ’
‘I was only cursing out loud because I dropped my candle, ‘ I lied.
‘Oh, I thought perhaps you had seen…somebody,’ replied George.
For some reason, I didn’t want to tell him the truth. I did not want him to laugh me. But I was determined to stay and have a complete rest.
That night, I woke up several times with the feeling of that cold hand under my own – a clammy hand which writhed its fingers under my own as my fingers closed upon it.
The next morning after breakfast, I was in the billiard room again practicing some shots and George Carson was over at the stables. The door opened and Miss Stonor looked in.
‘Come in,’ I said. ‘George will be back from the stables in a few minutes.’
‘I wanted to speak to you, ‘ she said.
She was looking very tired and ill and began to think I should not have had this holiday at all.
‘Do you believe in ghosts?’ she asked, closing the door and coming towards the billiard table. She stood leaning with both her hands upon it.
‘No,’ I replied, missing an easy shot as I remembered my experience on the stairs last night.
‘And, supposing that a person did believe in them and saw them, ‘ Miss Stonor paused, ‘Is there any cure?’
‘What do you mean, Miss Stonor?’ I asked, looking at her with some surprise. `Do you mean that you… ‘ I stopped because Miss Stonor turned away, sat down in one of the chairs, and burst into tears.
‘Oh, please help me,’ she cried. `I believe I am going mad!’