THE GIRL IN HIS HOUSE
at him. "Can't you see how like a fairy-story it is?"
"Where is your father now?"
"He is somewhere in Yucatan, exploring an Aztec ruin. But I expect his return any time now. A funny thing happened last night. A taxicab, filled with luggage, drew up in front of the house, and I thought it was he. I sent the butler dashing out. Somebody had got the wrong number."
"That was I," said Armitage. "I'd forgotten all about selling the house, and had driven up without thinking."
"Isn't that odd! But I'm going to tell you a secret. Your house is haunted."
"Haunted? Good Heavens! You don't mean to tell me there's a ghost wandering about that I never saw or heard of?"
"Well, during May and June there were times when I felt the presence of some one. Did any one ever look intently at you from behind, so intently that you had to turn your head? Well, it was like that. But last night I nearly caught the ghost. He sneezed! He ran like a deer, and I couldn't catch him."
"You weren't afraid?" Armitage won-
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