"Another novel?"

"Another novel."

"The old story?"

"The old story."

"I see a child," said the Haunted Man, gazing from the pages of the
book into the fire,--"a most unnatural child, a model infant. It
is prematurely old and philosophic. It dies in poverty to slow
music. It dies surrounded by luxury to slow music. It dies with
an accompaniment of golden water and rattling carts to slow music.
Previous to its decease it makes a will; it repeats the Lord's
Prayer, it kisses the 'boofer lady.' That child--"

"Is mine," said the phantom.

"I see a good woman, undersized. I see several charming women, but
they are all undersized. They are more or less imbecile and
idiotic, but always fascinating and undersized. They wear
coquettish caps and aprons. I observe that feminine virtue is
invariably below the medium height, and that it is always simple
and infantine. These women--"

"Are mine."

"I see a haughty, proud, and wicked lady. She is tall and queenly.
I remark that all proud and wicked women are tall and queenly.
That woman--"