4x-xx-xx ep07 What Was It

of the world gone by speak again their immortal tale. What was it? All right then. What was it? What was it? Nobody knows. But the house was haunted by something or somebody. The borders here at Mrs. Dimmety's boarding house didn't believe in ghosts either.

Myself included. But we were curious about them. That's why we voted to move into the old brownstone house on 49th Street. And once we were in, we were still convinced that ghosts don't venture abroad in a New York tenement building.

The only one who wasn't quite convinced that ghosts exist only in storybooks was old Mrs. Dimmedy herself. But her favorite rumor, young handsome Ned Saunders, and myself, I'm Dr. Hammond, we refuse to believe the ghostly nonsense.

And Mitchell, the young sculptress who lived there, was frankly curious, while accountous This was Harkaby, a fortune teller of some renown and a psychic of questionable fame, was delighted at the idea of living in a haunted house.

That was in the business way, of course. It was around 11 o'clock at night when the borders who were then assembled in that dark, dreary living room first heard what some claimed was a ghostly present.

Listen to that, Dr. Hammond. I hear it, Ned. An uncommon sort of sound for the wind. That is not the wind, Dr. Hammond. It is a cries from the spirit world. I feel it in the marrow of my bones.

No, stay countless. Can you feel things in a more comfortable place? Bone structures always struck me as the most uncomfortable place to have a feeling going on. Oh. If you want to do it, listen.

Oh, skip it. Ned, will you pass me that magazine on the shelf next to you? Take any kind of reading. I'll be preferable to listening to old psychic years rambling. Your say. Hey, idea. You really think this house is haunted, Countess?