And not only his physique but
his attitude struck me as being weak. He looked, you know, as though
he didn't know in the slightest whatever he meant to do. One hand
was on the panelling and the other fluttered to his mouth. Like--SO!"
"What sort of physique?" said Sanderson.
"Lean. You know that sort of young man's neck that has two great
flutings down the back, here and here--so! And a little, meanish head
with scrubby hair--And rather bad ears. Shoulders bad, narrower
than the hips; turn-down collar, ready-made short jacket, trousers
baggy and a little frayed at the heels. That's how he took me.
I came very quietly up the staircase. I did not carry a light,
you know--the candles are on the landing table and there is that lamp--
and I was in my list slippers, and I saw him as I came up. I stopped
dead at that--taking him in. I wasn't a bit afraid. I think that
in most of these affairs one is never nearly so afraid or excited
as one imagines one would be. I was surprised and interested.
I thought, 'Good Lord! Here's a ghost at last! And I haven't believed
for a moment in ghosts during the last five-and-twenty years.
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