"Would you deny that ghosts, so to call them, can be associated
with one particular spot, to the discomfort and even loss of
reason, or life, of those that may be in that spot at the
psychological moment, Sir Walter?"

"Emphatically I would deny it," declared the elder. "However
tragic the circumstances that might have befallen an unfortunate
being in life at any particular place, it is, in my opinion,
monstrous to suppose his disembodied spirit will hereafter be
associated with the place. We must be reasonable, Felix. Shall
the God Who gave us reason be Himself unreasonable?"

"And yet there are authentic--However, I admit the weight of your
argument."

"At the same time," ventured Mr. Travers, "none can deny that many
strange and terrible things happen, from hidden causes quite beyond
human power to explain."

"They do, Ernest; and so I lock up my Grey Room and rule it out of
our scheme of existence. At present it is full of lumber--old
furniture and a pack of rubbishy family portraits that only deserve
to be burned, but will some day be restored, I suppose."

"Not on my account, Uncle Walter," said Henry Lennox. "I have no
more respect for them than yourself. They are hopeless as art."

"No, no one must restore them. The art is I believe very bad, as
you say, but they were most worthy people, and this is the sole
memorial remaining of them."