"Why don't you go back to the spirit world and expose the Bangletops
there? They have spooks, haven't they?"

"Yes," replied the ghost, sadly. "But the spirit world his as bad as this
'ere. The spook of a cook carn't reach the spook of a baron there hany
more than a scullery-maid can reach a markis 'ere. H'I tried that when the
baron died and came over to the hother world, but 'e 'ad 'is spook
flunkies on 'and to tell me 'e was hout drivin' with the ghost of William
the Conqueror and the shide of Solomon. H'I knew 'e wasn't, but what could
h'I do?"

"It was a mean game of bluff," said Terwilliger. "I suppose, though, if
you were the shade of a duchess, you could simply knock Bangletop silly?"

"Yes, and the Baron of Peddlington too. 'E was the private secretary as
said h'I 'ad the big 'ead."

"H'm!" said Terwilliger, meditatively. "Would you--er--would you consent
to retire from this haunting business of yours, and give me a receipt for
that bill for wages, interest and all, if I had you made over into the
spook of a duchess? Revenge is sweet, you know, and there are some
revenges that are simply a thousand times more balmy than riches."

"Would h'I?" ejaculated the ghost, rising and looking at the clock. "Would
h'I?" she repeated. "Well, rather. If h'I could enter spook society as a
duchess, you can wager a year's hincome them Bangletops wouldn't be hin
it."

"Good! I am glad to see that you are a spook of spirit. If you had veins,
I believe there'd be sporting blood in them."