Not Pretty, but Precious; And Other Short Stories
“ Her fingers were met by others, soft, cold and damp. For a second, which seemed an hour, they grasped her extended hand with a close, clinging touch that some way seemed half familiar. For one instant the shapeless gloom appeared to take definite form--a tall human figure, a man in poor and ragged clothes; for one instant a pair of wistful, eager eyes looked into her own; the next, the cock without crowed loud and shrill. Her hand was released, and with the same long, weary sigh the ghostly Presence passed away. Miss Sophonisba sank back on her pillow nearly insensible. ”
