To my infinite surprise his name was not given, but that of the younger Halifax son. "It was Henry Halifax. It is a spirit which was haunting him and came to you afterwards."
Now, as I had not even seen this young man, as already explained, I could not bear to think of any false and fanciful accusation being made against him; so remonstrated with my friend.
"Do be careful in giving me the name. Are you quite sure you mean Henry Halifax? Are you not thinking of Mr Loseby?" (Mentioning the name that had been given me of the other gentleman.)
"No; I mean Henry Halifax."
"But I did not even see him," I urged.
"No; but you were sitting with your back to him all afternoon. Don't you know the back is more psychically sensitive than any other part of the body?"
Nothing was said about the malignant spirit beyond the fact that it was someone "haunting" Henry Halifax.
The matter, once explained, I put it out of my head, having no special curiosity as to the reason of the haunting, and supposing it might have been some male acquaintance of his.
That morning I went down to my Wimbledon friend for a night. I arrived in time for luncheon on Saturday morning, and after a pleasant walk on the Common in the afternoon my friend suggested our coming home by a certain florist's shop, as she wished to buy some plants for her drawing-room.
I had already met this florist's wife, a very "spooky" person, who had been introduced by us to Mr Myers and the Society for Psychical Research. She was a handsome, fresh-coloured, practical woman, with nothing of the weird and pallid "ghost seer" about her comely face. But she had had some wonderful experiences, and her children also; and these had been already imparted to Mr Frederic Myers.