Spencer Coyle hesitated. He had, fundamentally, principles and scruples, but what he had in particular just now was a curiosity, or rather, to recognize it for what it was, a sympathy, which brushed them away.
"Does it strike you that she's down on him?" he permitted himself to inquire.
"Rather!—when she tells him he lies!"
"What do you mean?"
"Why, before me. It made me leave them; it was getting too hot. I stupidly brought up the question of the haunted room again, and said how sorry I was that I had had to promise you not to try my luck with it."
"You can't pry about in that gross way in other people's houses—you can't take such liberties, you know!" Mr. Coyle interjected.
"I'm all right—see how good I am. I don't want to go near the place!" said young Lechmere, confidingly. "Miss Julian said to me, 'Oh, I dare say you'd risk it, but'—and she turned and laughed at poor Owen—'that's more than we can expect of
