“Oh, never mind that,” Prue brushed some of the things aside and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Speaking of Countesses,” she began, “Janet wanted to know if anybody really important had ever slept in their room, and I thought it was a good chance for a ghost story.”
“Of course, the very thing,” Gladys agreed decidedly.
“We might as well have a good one while we’re about it. You’d better make it up, Prue,” Ann suggested.
Gladys had been gazing out of the window; she turned half way around now.
“Don’t have to make it up,” she said slowly. “There’s a perfect cracker-jack about a pretty lady popping off the balcony when they brought in her lover who had been shot in a duel.”
“Which balcony was it?” Prue demanded.
Gladys’s eyes twinkled. “Well, it might just as well have been theirs,” she said.
The other two nodded in understanding.