justified in putting them to use, for the good of humanity? And
wasn't there a certain pathetic significance in the fact that I,
the daughter of the man who had done so much to put these poor
lonely spirits into the Beyond, should be made their sole channel
of reunion with their bereaved and sorrowing adorers? In all his
harangues, I had never heard my Father attack anything but the
actual DRINKING of liquor. This form of communication seemed to me
to solve so many problems. And it was in this way that I first met
Virgil."

"Virgil?" said Bleak, absent-mindedly, for he was wondering
whether he might be privileged to attend one of these seances.

"Virgil Quimbleton," she said. "In the early days of my trances I
was much haunted by the spirit of a certain cocktail--blended, I
believe, of champagne and angostura--which insisted that it would
be inconsolable until it could get in contact with Quimbleton and
reassure him as to the certainty of its existence beyond mortal
bars. The deep affection and old comradeship evidently cherished
between Quimbleton and this cocktail was very touching, and I was
more than happy to be able to effect their reunion. It was for
this reason that Quimbleton, under a careful disguise, came to
live next door to us on Caraway Street. I would go out into the
garden and have a trance; Quimbleton, poor bereaved fellow, would
sit by me in the dusk and revel with the spirit of his dear
comrade. This common bond soon ripened into Jove, and we became
betrothed."

She stripped off one of her gloves and showed Bleak a beautiful
amethyst ring.