Excerpt from My Friend's Book Sweet it is to summon up remembrance of things past. Darkness and Silence lend their aid to the task. Night with its calm stills the fears of the ghosts, who are timid and Shy by nature, and wait for the hours of darkness and solitude ere they come to whisper their secrets in the ears of the living Whom they love.

The casement blinds are drawn close, the door curtains hang in heavy folds upon the floor. One door, and one only, stands ajar, and my eyes turn as though instinctively towards it. Through it there steals an opalescent gleam, and the sound of gentle rhythmic breathing - and not even I can tell which is the mother's, which the children's.

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