HARRY (rising). Wait a mo.
(He looks about him, like one taking his bearings.)
Gimme the tea. That’s better. Thank you, missis.
MRS. OTERY. Have you seen anything?
HARRY. See here, as I sat in that chair—I wasn’t sleeping, mind you—it’s no dream—but things of the far past connected with this old house—things I knew naught of—they came crowding out of their holes and gathered round me till I saw—I saw them all so clear that I don’t know what to think, woman. (He is a grave man now.) Never mind about that. Tell me about this—ghost.
MRS. OTERY. It’s no concern of yours.
HARRY. Yes, it is some concern of mine. The folk that used to live here—the Morlands——
MRS. OTERY. That was the name. I suppose you heard it in the village?
HARRY. I have heard it all my days. It is one of the names I bear. I am one of the family.
MRS. OTERY. I suspicioned that.