never known them to be really rude."
* Apparently a mistake on Muriel's part .... "The rappings answered back with obscenity or blasphemy." Poltergeists. Sacheverell Sitwell. Faber and Faber, June, 1940.
"Did your husband object to having this writing cleaned off the walls?"
"No, he didn't mind once it was photographed. But the photographs looked even more horrid than the actual scribble, so Bella persuaded him to throw the negatives away and destroy the proofs. She said no one would believe they were spirit writings, and anyway they were embarrassing. Which it is quite true, they were."
"Do you remember them?" asked Mrs. Bradley.
"Oh, yes, of course I do, but I wouldn't repeat them to you."
"Write them down, then," said Mrs. Bradley, offering her a notebook and pencil. As Muriel hesitated she added with a cackle, "Don't worry. I expect I've heard worse things from some of my mental patients.... Now let us continue: bell-ringing?"
"Well, no, not at this house. At least—not after Tom cut all the wires. At least, I don't believe so."
"Was there a bell in every room in the house?"
"No, only in some of the rooms. I think there had been bells, but they were all out of order when we got there, but some we had repaired, but I don't remember which."
"I see. Now I know there were things thrown about and things moved, and I know there is a cold draught at one spot in the passage, so I need not ask you about those. What about lights in windows?"
"Yes, those have been seen from the road at times when both Tom and I—and Bella, when she was with us—were all downstairs, and we knew no one else was in the house or could have got in."
"The lights were always from the bedroom windows, then? Did the lights show at the same window each time, or was a different window ever used?"
"Oh, it was always the same window, so far as I know. Of course, people may not always have told us, but we asked them to, as soon as it was known the lights had been seen, because we did not use any of the bedrooms, after that, if they fronted the road. So we knew that if lights were seen it was not any light that we ourselves were using."
"Very interesting," thought Mrs. Bradley, "considering that the hauntings were a source of income."
"When Bella came to live with us," Muriel continued, "it was arranged that we should take it in turns in the evening to go out into the garden and see whether the lights were visible. If they were, then the one outside was to throw gravel at the drawing-room window, and the other two would rush upstairs to investigate."
"Oh? You took it in turns, did you?" said Mrs. Bradley.
"Well, when it came to the point, Bella said she was far too nervous to go tearing upstairs and bursting in on a ghost. She said if she saw one she'd die. So actually she used to be the one to go out into the garden, and Tom and I were the ones who always rushed upstairs."
"I wonder she wasn't afraid of the garden in the dark if she were so very nervous," said Mrs. Bradley.
"Oh, but she was," said Muriel. "She always took a loaded stick out with her—a cosh, she called it. One of those terrible boys had made it for her in the Institution workshop. Tom used to tease her about it, and ask her what good she thought it would be against a ghost, but she said it gave her confidence and she would always take it with her."
"And did you and your husband ever see the lights independently of Miss Foxley?" Mrs. Bradley enquired.
"Yes. Twice. But we weren't there so very long without Bella, you know. Of course, she only spent the one week-end there before aunt's death."
"Ah, yes," said Mrs. Bradley. She glanced at her watch. "I must go, I'm afraid, Mrs. Turney. Mý son has booked seats for a revue. Do you like that kind of thing? Some people are so ponderous nowadays. Now in my opinion, the modern revue-approximates more closely to the ancient Greek idea of comedy than serious thinkers would suppose."
Muriel nervously agreed.
The séances, one conducted by amateurs, the other by a famous member of the Society for Psychical Research, continued to have negative results. This, of course, proved nothing, although one, at least, of the sitters, would have been very much surprised at any manifestations.
Mrs. Muriel