The Ghost

Arnold Bennett
The Ghost, by Arnold Bennett

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Title: The Ghost A Modern Fantasy
Author: Arnold Bennett
Release Date: November 28, 2005 [EBook #17176]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE GHOST
A Modern Fantasy

BY
ARNOLD BENNETT
AUTHOR OF "THE OLD WIVES' TALES," "CLAYHANGER,"
ETC., ETC.

BOSTON SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 1911
Copyright, 1907 By HERBERT B. TURNER & CO.
Copyright, 1911
BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY (INCORPORATED)

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
MY SPLENDID COUSIN
II. AT THE OPERA
III. THE CRY OF ALRESCA
IV. ROSA'S SUMMONS
V. THE DAGGER AND THE MAN
VI. ALRESCA'S FATE
VII. THE VIGIL BY THE BIER
VIII. THE MESSAGE

IX. THE TRAIN
X. THE STEAMER
XI. A CHAT WITH ROSA
XII. EGG-AND-MILK
XIII. THE PORTRAIT
XIV. THE VILLA
XV. THE SHEATH OF THE DAGGER
XVI. THE THING IN THE CHAIR
XVII. THE MENACE
XVIII. THE STRUGGLE
XIX. THE INTERCESSION

THE GHOST
CHAPTER I
MY SPLENDID COUSIN
I am eight years older now. It had never occurred to me that I am
advancing in life and experience until, in setting myself to recall the
various details of the affair, I suddenly remembered my timid
confusion before the haughty mien of the clerk at Keith Prowse's.
I had asked him:
"Have you any amphitheatre seats for the Opera to-night?"
He did not reply. He merely put his lips together and waved his hand

slowly from side to side.
Not perceiving, in my simplicity, that he was thus expressing a sublime
pity for the ignorance which my demand implied, I innocently
proceeded:
"Nor balcony?"
This time he condescended to speak.
"Noth--ing, sir."
Then I understood that what he meant was: "Poor fool! why don't you
ask for the moon?"
I blushed. Yes, I blushed before the clerk at Keith Prowse's, and turned
to leave the shop. I suppose he thought that as a Christian it was his
duty to enlighten my pitiable darkness.
"It's the first Rosa night to-night," he said with august affability. "I had
a couple of stalls this morning, but I've just sold them over the
telephone for six pound ten."
He smiled. His smile crushed me. I know better now. I know that clerks
in box-offices, with their correct neckties and their air of continually
doing wonders over the telephone, are not, after all, the grand masters
of the operatic world. I know that that manner of theirs is merely a part
of their attire, like their cravats; that they are not really responsible for
the popularity of great sopranos; and that they probably go home at
nights to Fulham by the white omnibus, or to Hammersmith by the red
one--and not in broughams.
"I see," I observed, carrying my crushed remains out into the street.
Impossible to conceal the fact that I had recently arrived from
Edinburgh as raw as a ploughboy!
If you had seen me standing irresolute on the pavement, tapping my
stick of Irish bog-oak idly against the curbstone, you would have seen a

slim youth, rather nattily dressed (I think), with a shadow of brown on
his upper lip, and a curl escaping from under his hat, and the hat just a
little towards the back of his head, and a pretty good chin, and the pride
of life in his ingenuous eye. Quite unaware that he was immature!
Quite unaware that the supple curves of his limbs had an almost
feminine grace that made older fellows feel paternal! Quite unaware
that he had everything to learn, and that all his troubles lay before him!
Actually fancying himself a man because he had just taken his medical
degree....
The June sun shone gently radiant in a blue sky, and above the roofs
milky-bosomed clouds were floating in a light wind. The town was
bright, fresh, alert, as London can be during the season, and the
joyousness of the busy streets echoed the joyousness of my heart (for I
had already, with the elasticity of my years, recovered from the reverse
inflicted on me by Keith Prowse's clerk). On the opposite side of the
street were the rich premises of a well-known theatrical club, whose
weekly entertainments had recently acquired fame. I was, I recollect,
proud of knowing the identity of the building--it was one of the few
things I did know in London--and I was observing with interest the
wondrous livery
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