“Caroline Glynn, you look!” said Mrs. Brigham. “Look! What is that dreadful shadow?”
Caroline rose, turned, and stood confronting the wall.
“How should I know?” she said.
“It has been there every night since he died,” cried Rebecca.
“Every night?”
“Yes. He died Thursday and this is Saturday; that makes three nights,” said Caroline rigidly. She stood as if holding herself calm with a vise of concentrated will.
“It—it looks like—like—” stammered Mrs. Brigham in a tone of intense horror.
“I know what it looks like well enough,” said Caroline. “I’ve got eyes in my head.”
“It looks like Edward,” burst out Rebecca in a sort of frenzy of fear. “Only—”
“Yes, it does,” assented Mrs. Brigham, whose horror-stricken tone matched her sister’s, “only— Oh, it is awful! What is it, Caroline?”