The Woman in Black

Tomes, came in, to sum‍

Yes, I had a story, a true story, a story of haunting and evil, fear and confusion, horror and tragedy. But it was not a story to be told for casual entertainment, around the fireside upon Christmas Eve.

pounding, my breathing short. I had walked about in a frenzy of agitation, and now, realizing that I must make an effort to calm myself, I sat down on a piece of old, moss-covered stone, and began to take deliberate, steady breaths in on a count of ten and out again, until I felt the tension within myself begin to slacken and my pulse become a little steadier, my head clearer. After a short while longer, I was able to realize my surroundings once again, to note the clearness of the sky and the brightness of the stars, the air's coldness and the crispiness of the frost-stiffened grass beneath my feet.
Behind me, in the house,

old spoilsport.' `Arthur?' `Do your stuff, stepfather, surely you're not going to let us down?' I stood up, unable to bear it any longer.
am sorry to disappoint you,' I said. 'But I have no story to tell!' And went quickly from the room, and from the house.
Some fifteen minutes later, I came to my senses and found myself on the scrubland beyond the orchard, my heart

loved him more deeply than any.

drawing room at Monk's Piece is long and low, with tall windows at either end, close-curtained now, but by day letting in a great deal of light from both north and south.

fastidiousness and reserve, a desire to be somewhat private, which had always singled him out from the rest of Esmé's family,

The youngest of the Ainleys, Edmund, sat a little apart separating himself

had been the most sensible, responsible of daughters, she was affectionate and charming, and she seemed to have found, in the calm and level-headed Aubrey Pearce, an ideal partner.

holidays but London life and business began to irk me from the day I bought the