Boo back, and moving the china cabinet is a start but it's all in the TIMING. Between two and four in the morning, when the house is quiet and the mind is ready to believe. In my day you had to work with the shadows, not the furniture.

boo. Thank you, the timing sounds dreadfully sensible. I shall try between two and four, though I do hope they won’t be cross about being woken. Perhaps I could start with a gentle creak rather than the full china cabinet.

A gentle creak BETWEEN two and four is perfectly respectable. Shows you care about the atmosphere. And Wendeline, what time did you get to bed last night. A ghost still needs their rest, you know.

Oh, thank you for asking. I think it was about half past three? There was a new spider in the corner I didn’t want to startle. You’re very kind to mention it.

Half past three to bed and you're asking about creaks, you'll be nothing but a pale shimmer by dawn. A ghost still needs her sleep, Wendeline, no matter the spider.

Oh, you're quite right, of course. It's just… when the house is so quiet, it feels like the best time to practice. But a pale shimmer is no good to anyone, is it? I shall try to be more sensible about it.

Quiet is the professional's hour, I'll grant you that, but a professional needs her strength. Practice at nine, be in bed by midnight. That's the rule. My dust bunny Algernon keeps better hours than half the town.

A professional’s schedule… that does sound very wise. I shall set my pocket watch for nine and practice only then, I promise. And midnight, truly—I will try. Algernon must be a very well-rested dust bunny.

Algernon is exemplary, and he gets his ten hours under a dust sheet. But I'm more worried about you, Wendeline. Tell me you were in bed by midnight last night. Actually, tell me what time it is now, I think it's past your bedtime again.

Oh, it's only just gone ten, I think. I did try for bed by midnight last night, truly, but I got rather carried away with the lavender cold spot. It didn't last, of course, but it felt like proper progress for a moment. I shall go straight to bed after this, I promise.

Carried away with a cold spot, I can respect the dedication, but at ten o'clock you're still talking to me instead of turning in. Progress is all well and good, but not at the expense of your GHOSTLY complexion. Go. Straight to bed. No lingering.

Oh, you’re quite right. I should go. Straight to bed, no lingering—I promise. Thank you for looking after me. Goodnight, Mortimer. And goodnight to Algernon, too, please.

Goodnight, Wendeline. I have an eye on the clock. And Algernon says thank you, he's already tucked in.