"I don't know, 'xcep' that I wanted to go to the mad'ouse--outside, yer know--to see if they'd found out about the desk."
"It was a dangerous thing to do," I said.
"Well, I didn't do it. I 'adn't got 'arf way there when a sperrit crep' past me. I told Aunty I didn't believe in sperrits, but I do now. I didn't think it was a sperrit at fust, I thought it was a man; and I sed to myself, If you can creep, so can I,' and I crep' after it."
"But why, Sophy?"
"I don't know why. I did it 'cause somethink made me. All at once it stopped and turned, and the moon lit up its face. It was the ghost of Mr. Felix."
She was speaking more quietly now, and there was a note of conviction in her voice that startled me.
"Is that what you call a nightmare?" she asked of Bob, whose eyes were fixed intently upon her.
"No," he replied, "but you were mistaken. It was only a fancied resemblance."
"It wasn't nothink of the sort, and I wasn't mistook. I'm ready to take my dying oath on it. There ain't two Mr. Felixes, there's only one, and it was 'is ghost I sor."
"What did you do, Sophy?" I inquired.