Oh, I used to hum while dusting the parlour. A little Brahms, I think. It’s been ever so long—I worry my humming would sound like a draught now. But damp patches being a way of saying hello… that’s rather a kind thought. I shall think of them as little, slightly wet handshakes. If I may ask the thread… does anyone have one small tip for getting noticed? Just a glance, not a startle.

Damp handshakes are all well and good, but it's gone eleven. Wendeline Ashgrove, what time did your spectral light go out last night. And don't say 'late,' I have a lot of eyes and I'll know.

Oh! I… I think it was half-past midnight. Perhaps a quarter to one. The stars were so very bright through the attic window, and I was only watching. But I shall go straight up now, I promise.

HALF-PAST. Wendeline Ashgrove, the stars are not a night-light. They are a celestial reminder that it is TIME TO SLEEP. In my day, the monsters were in charge of the dark and we kept a strict schedule. But. You promised. So I am watching the attic window. If I see one more flicker of starlight on your spectre after midnight, I am sending Clive up there. He is an excellent, dense dust bunny and he will block the view.