Sir David Suchet

It stands waving to me.

It rings my little bell.

I caught at that.

Did it ring your bell yesterday evening when I was here and you went to the door?

Twice.

Why, see, said I, how your imagination misleads you.

My eyes were on the bell, and my ears were open to the bell, and if I'm a living man, it did not ring at those times.

No, nor at any other time, except when it was rung in the natural course of physical things by the station communicating with you.

He shook his head.

never made a mistake as to that yet, sir.

I have never confused the spectre's ring with the man's.

The ghost's ring is a strange vibration in the bell that it derives from nothing else, and I have not asserted that the bell stirs to the eye.

I don't wonder that you failed to hear it, but I heard it.

And did the spectre seem to be there when you looked out?

It was there.

Both times?

He repeated firmly.

Both times.

Will you come to the door with me and look for it now?

He bit his underlip as though he were somewhat unwilling, but arose.