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In the creepiest tale I ever read, the horror lay in this there was no ghost! You may describe a ghost with all the most hideous features that fancy can suggest saucer eyes, red staring hair, a forked tail, and what you please but the reader only laughs. It is wiser to make as if you were going to describe the spectre, and then break off, exclaiming, "But no!
A pale old woman with dark hollows under her eyes that were fixed upon the pattern of the Indian rug. Her hair was white. Her thin, white hands rested limply on the arms of the chair, and she was rocking back and forth, back and forth, steadily, quietly, just rocking and staring at the Indian rug. Casey has since told me that she was the creepiest thing he ever saw in his life.
I had never understood or seen it before. It was the creepiest and most impressive thing I ever had happen to me, I do believe. There was no one except the two donkey-boys and myself and the Sphinx.
"It was the creepiest place I have ever been in, and I was never gladder in my life than when we left it for the more cheerful lower floor though goodness knows that was dreary enough." "Say, when are we going?" cried Chet, jumping to his feet, his face flushed with eagerness. "Where?" asked Mrs. Bradley.
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