determination to spot it!"

"Me--just now?" His arm dropped away, and he turned from her
with a faint echo of her laugh. "Really, dearest, you'd better
give it up, if that's the best you can do."

"Yes, I give it up--I give it up. Have YOU?" she asked, turning
round on him abruptly.

The parlor-maid had entered with letters and a lamp, and the
light struck up into Boyne's face as he bent above the tray she
presented.

"Have YOU?" Mary perversely insisted, when the servant had
disappeared on her errand of illumination.

"Have I what?" he rejoined absently, the light bringing out the
sharp stamp of worry between his brows as he turned over the
letters.

"Given up trying to see the ghost." Her heart beat a little at
the experiment she was making.

Her husband, laying his letters aside, moved away into the shadow
of the hearth.

"I never tried," he said, tearing open the wrapper of a
newspaper.

"Well, of course," Mary persisted, "the exasperating thing is