“Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. But leave me here in my home, child, I will disintegrate if I am exposed. It was impossible to meet the motion bodily. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. She rose at once with a little exclamation, half of surprise, half of pleasure. “Even Katy Pfister can’t touch you now. Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails.
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