“No prem⁠—oh, hold my head, somebody!” groaned Parker.

“But we’ve got to buy the furniture,” continued Mrs. Robinson.

“Ah!” Parker brisked up. “I knew there was a catch!”

“For fifty pounds. And it’s beautifully furnished!”

“I give it up,” said Parker. “The present occupants must be lunatics with a taste for philanthropy.”

Mrs. Robinson was looking a little troubled. A little pucker appeared between her dainty brows.

“It is queer, isn’t it? You don’t think that⁠—that⁠—the place is haunted ?”