Sabine Baring-Gould,
A Book of Ghosts — On the Leads
(1904)
“ The parlourmaid, with a blanched face, was at the door. “Nonsense,” said I, “we burnt it.”“This comes of the sherry,” observed my wife. “They will be seeing ghosts every night.”“But, my dear, you saw it as well as myself!”I rose, my wife followed, and we went to the landing as before, and, sure enough, against the patch of moonlight cast through the window in the roof, was the arm again, and then a flutter of shadows, as if cast by garments. ”
