The ghost nodded, and began, very sensibly, I thought, to demobilize and evaporate. First the brogans on her feet grew misty until I could see the floor through them, then the affection spread to her knees and gradually extended upward. By this time my wife was opening the door.
“Don't forget the strike,” she repeated, while her lower jaw began to disintegrate, and as my Lavinia crossed the room to me the last vestige of her ear faded into space.
“John, why in the world are you sitting in the dark?”
“Just—thinking, my dear.”
“Thinking, rubbish! You were talking out loud.”
I remained silent while she lit the lamps, thankful that her back was turned to me. When I am nervous or excited there is a muscle in my face that starts to twitch, and this pulls up one corner of my mouth and gives the appearance of an idiotic grin. So far I had managed to conceal this affliction from Lavinia.
“You know I bought the loveliest thing this afternoon. Everybody's wild over them!”
I remembered her craze for taking up new fads and a premonitory chill crept up the back of my neck.
“It—it isn't——” I began and stopped. I simply couldn't ask; the possibility was too horrible.
“You'd never guess in the world. It's the duckiest, darlingest Ouija board, and so cheap! I got it at a bargain sale. Why, what's the matter, John?”