“Yes, but he did not succeed for a long time. Finally the mayor took it.”
Refolding the paper, I handed it back to Mr. Robinson. I had its contents well in mind.
“There is one fact to which I should like to call your attention,” said I. “The manifestations, as here recorded, have all taken place in the lower part of the house. I should have had more faith in them, if they had occurred above stairs. There are no outlets through the roof.”
“Nor any visible ones below. At least no visible one was ever found open.”
“What about the woman, Bess?” I asked. “How do you account for her persistency in clinging to a place her employers invariably fled from? She seems to have been always on hand with an offer of her services.”
“Bess is not a young woman, but she is a worker of uncommon ability, very rigid and very stoical. She herself accounts for her willingness to work in this house by her utter disbelief in spirits, and the fact that it is the one place in the world which connects her with her wandering and worthless husband. Their final parting occurred during Mr. Dennison’s tenancy, and as she had given the wanderer the Franklin Street address, you could not reason her out of the belief that on his return he would expect to find here there. That is what she explained to Mr. Searles.”
“You interest me, Mr. Robinson. Is she a plain woman? Such a one as a man would not be likely to return to?”
“No, she is a very good-looking woman, refined and full of character, but odd, very odd,—in fact, baffling.”
“How baffling?”
“I never knew her to look any one directly in the eye. Her manner is abstracted and inspires distrust. There is also a marked incongruity between her employment and her general appearance. She looks out of place in her working apron, yet she is not what you would call a lady.”