And Evans, who admires Clayton immensely and has been four weeks in America, shouted, 'Caught a ghost, did you, Clayton? I'm glad of it! Tell us all about it right now.'
Clayton said he would in a minute, and asked him to shut the door.
He looked apologetically at me. 'There's no eavesdropping, of course, but we don't want to upset our very excellent service with any rumours of ghosts in the place. There's too much shadow and oak panelling to trifle with that. And this, you know, wasn't a regular ghost. I don't think it will come again—ever.'
'You mean to say you didn't keep it?' said Sanderson.
'I hadn't the heart to,' said Clayton.
And Sanderson said he was surprised.
We laughed, and Clayton looked aggrieved. 'I know,' he said, with a flicker of a smile, 'but the fact is it really was a ghost, and I'm as sure of it as I am that I am talking to you now. I'm not joking. I mean what I say.'
Sanderson drew deeply at his pipe, with one reddish eye on Clayton, and then emitted a thin jet of smoke more eloquent than many words.
Clayton ignored the comment. 'It is the strangest thing that has ever happened in my life. You know I never believed in ghosts or anything of the sort, before, ever; and then, you know, I bag one in a corner; and the whole business is in my hands.'
He meditated still more profoundly and produced and began to pierce a second cigar with a curious little stabber he affected.
'You talked to it?' asked Wish.
'For the space, probably, of an hour.'
'Chatty?' I said, joining the party of the sceptics.
'The poor devil was in trouble,' said Clayton, bowed
