“Jeanne,” she said quite suddenly, “you didn’t believe that, did you?”
“Believe what?” Jeanne’s tone showed her astonishment.
“Oh,” Florence laughed, “I forgot you were not reading my mind. You don’t believe that a ghost was playing the reed organ in the Tavern that night, do you?”
“What should one believe? You saw no one?”
“No one.”
“And the doors were locked?”
“Of course.”
“The windows, too?”
“Yes, I—I’m sure of it.”
“Well then, what shall we say?”