stayed too late, and it was getting dark.
Clive easily shut them up.

"Of course you can't go. Stay to supper and go back by the light of
the moon. We've got to have some music and sit on the Counsel Rock,
and eat--apricots and all sorts of things yet. And afterwards we'll
come a bit of the way with you."

They did not need much persuasion to settle down again. Clive handed
round smokes.

"We won't spoil the best hour of the day by lighting the lamp," she
said. They waited. In a minute or so they heard the strange girl
approaching. The house consisted of a number of rooms built in the
form of a square round a little back courtyard. Each room led into the
other, but had also an outer door. Ghostie's room was third from the
studio, with one between, unused because of huge holes in the floor.
It was through this dilapidated chamber that the girl could now be
heard approaching, clicking her high heels and picking her way
delicately by the aid of a candle whose beams showed under the door and
flicked across the courtyard at the back. In spite of its light she
caught one of her high heels in a hole, and a faint but distinctly
naughty word was heard, followed by a giggle. As she reached the door
she blew out the candle. They heard the puff of her breath, as plainly
as they had heard the naughty word. Then she stood in the open
doorway, visible only because she wore a white dress.

"Come in," said Clive with politeness, but irony not quite gone from
her voice. The figure did not stir or speak. For some reason unknown
to her, April felt the hair on her scalp stir as though a chill wind
had blown through it. And the same wind sent a thrill down her
backbone. Clive repeated the invitation, somewhat sharply, and then
the girl spoke.

"I'm ashamed to come in."

The voice was timid, and very low, but it was enough to make April give
a broken cry and hide her face in Sarle's shoulder. Kenna leapt to his
feet, and next moment the yellow spurt of a lighted match in his hand
revealed the drooping face of the girl in the doorway.

"My God! Diana!"

"Yes; isn't it awful!" she said mournfully. "I know I ought to be
dead, but I'm not. How do you do, Ronny?"

She passed him and came slowly across the room to the girl who was
trembling violently against Sarle's shoulder. The strain of the day,
ending in this, was almost more than April Poole could bear.

"Don't be frightened, April." She was genuinely conce