"I suppose Mrs. Ormond had her theory?" I ventured.

"Oh, yes--such as it was," said Wanhope. "It was her belief--her
religion--that Ormond had seen Death, in person or personified, or the
angel of it; and that the sight was something beautiful, and not
terrible. She thought that she should see Death, too in the same way, as
a messenger. I don't know that it was such a bad theory," he added
impartially.

"Not," said Minver, "if you suppose that Ormond was off his nut. But, in
regard to the whole matter, there is always a question of how much truth
there was in what she said about it."

"Of course," the psychologist admitted, "that is a question which must be
considered. The question of testimony in such matters is the difficult
thing. You might often believe in supernatural occurrences if it were not
for the witnesses. It is very interesting," he pursued, with his
scientific smile, "to note how corrupting anything supernatural or
mystical is. Such things seem mostly to happen either in the privity of
people who are born liars, or else they deprave the spectator so, through
his spiritual vanity or his love of the marvelous, that you can't believe
a word he says.

"They are as bad as horses on human morals," said Minver. "Not that I
think it ever needed the coming of a ghost to invalidate any statement of
Mrs. Ormond's." Rulledge rose and went away growling something, partially
audible, to the disadvantage of Minver's wit, and the painter laughed
after him: "He really believes it."