All his great achievements came back to him again. There was the butler who had shot himself in the pantry because he had seen a green hand tapping at the window pane

There was also the beautiful Lady Stutfield, who was always obliged to wear a black velvet band round her throat to hide the mark of five fingers burnt upon her white skin, and who drowned herself at last in the carp pond at the end of the King's Walk.

With the enthusiastic egotism of the true artist he went over his most celebrated performances, and smiled bitterly to himself as he recalled to mind his last appearance as Red Reuben, or the Strangled Babe, his début as Gaunt Gideon, the Blood-sucker of Bexley Moor

He recalled the furore he had created one lovely June evening by merely playing ninepins with his own bones upon the lawn-tennis ground.

And after all this, some wretched modern Americans were to come and offer him the Rising Sun Lubricator, and throw pillows at his head!

It was quite unbearable. Besides, no ghost in history had ever been treated in this manner. Therefore, he determined to have vengeance, and remained till daylight in an attitude of deep thought.