"Sit down again, and have one with me," said the Patience player.
"No, it isn't a ghost. Our trouble is more depression than
anything else."
"How interesting? Then it's nothing any one can see?"
"It's--it's nothing worse than a little depression. And the odd
part is that there hasn't been a death in the house since it was
built--in 1863. The lawyer said so. That decided me--my good
lady, rather and he made me pay an extra thousand for it."
"How curious. Unusual, too!" I said.
"Yes; ain't it? It was built for three sisters--Moultrie was the
name--three old maids. They all lived together; the eldest owned
it. I bought it from her lawyer a few years ago, and if I've
spent a pound on the place first and last, I must have spent five
thousand. Electric light, new servants' wing, garden--all that
sort of thing. A man and his family ought to be happy after so
much expense, ain't it?" He looked at me through the bottom of
his glass.
"Does it affect your family much?"
"My good lady--she's a Greek, by the way--and myself are
middle-aged.
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