"From where they come from! She just appeared and stood there--
but not so near."

"And without coming nearer?"

"Oh, for the effect and the feeling, she might have been as close as you!"

My friend, with an odd impulse, fell back a step.
"Was she someone you've never seen?"

"Yes. But someone the child has. Someone YOU have."
Then, to show how I had thought it all out: "My predecessor--
the one who died."

"Miss Jessel?"

"Miss Jessel. You don't believe me?" I pressed.

She turned right and left in her distress. "How can you be sure?"

This drew from me, in the state of my nerves, a flash of impatience.
"Then ask Flora--SHE'S sure!" But I had no sooner spoken
than I caught myself up. "No, for God's sake, DON'T!"
She'll say she isn't--she'll lie!"

Mrs. Grose was not too bewildered instinctively to protest.
"Ah, how CAN you?"

"Because I'm clear. Flora doesn't want me to know."