“I knew you’d jeer at it, but I did hear the ticking, all the same.”
“Wasn’t your own watch under your pillow?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, all right. I haven’t a word to say.”
“But it wasn’t any watch I heard—it was a different sort of tick.”
“Yes, of course it was. Ghosts’ watches have a peculiar tick of their own—”
“Alvord, stop! It’s mean of you to poke fun at me!”
“Forgive me, do; I apologize. It was mean, and I’ll stop. What else happened?”
“Nothing,” Aunt Abby was clearly piqued.
“Yes, tell me. What became of the—the figure?”