"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
"I know, but I'm so busy just now that it's done for me. My sister is ashamed of me every evening at eight—fifteen. Matinees on Wednesdays at two. Could you come one day?"
She laughed in spite of herself. Then:
"And now where is this Grange place?"
"Next but one on the right, but it looks rotten in the evening."
"It's only just five."
"Besides, they had measles there last May—stacks of them."
"Stacks of what?"
"Measles. One of them escaped one day and was brought back by the village corner-boy. He said he'd have kept it, only he hadn't got a dog licence."
"But The Grange has got a ghost, hasn't it? And I love ghosts."