Rebecca sat with her face hidden: Caroline dipped her pen in the inkstand.
“Why don’t you turn around and look?” asked Mrs. Brigham in a wondering and somewhat aggrieved way.
“I am in a hurry to finish this letter, if Mrs. Wilson Ebbit is going to get word in time to come to the funeral,” replied Caroline shortly.
Mrs. Brigham rose, her work slipping to the floor, and she began walking around the room, moving various articles of furniture, with her eyes on the shadow.
Then suddenly she shrieked out:
“Look at this awful shadow! What is it? Caroline, look, look!
Rebecca, look! WHAT IS IT?”
All Mrs. Brigham’s triumphant placidity was gone. Her handsome face was livid with horror. She stood stiffly pointing at the shadow.
“Look!” said she, pointing her finger at it. “Look! What is it?”
Then Rebecca burst out in a wild wail after a shuddering glance at the wall:
“Oh, Caroline, there it is again! There it is again!”