'For fifteen years sir, 'I had the honour to serve Lord Sandival,' Marks said, eagerly.
'Aha!' rumbled the doctor, closing one eye. He looked rather as the Ghost would have looked had he caught Hamlet playing pinochle when he should have been attending to business. `Why did you leave your last place? Sacked?'
'No, sir! It was the death of His Lordship, sir.'
'M'm. Murdered, I suppose?' inquired the Ghost.
'Good Heavens, no sir!'
Marks was visibly wilting. The Ghost became practical. 'Now, look here, Marks, I don't mind telling you you're in a very had corner.. You've got a good position, haven't you?’
'Yes, sir. And I'm sure Sir William will give me the highest… '
'He won't, Marks, if he knows what we know. Would you like to lose your position, and go to gaol besides?' rumbled Dr Fell, picking up the handcuffs.
Marks moved backwards, his forehead damp.
'Marks,' said the Ghost, `give me your hat!'