Philip, however, scarcely spared a moment for greeting his brother and sister; and when, in answer to his request that they be brief in what they had to say, they replied that a few words would not suffice, Philip was for putting them off till the morrow, as he did not choose to be disturbed just now.
At this Melissa took courage; she turned to Serapion and modestly addressed him: "You, sir, look like a grave, kind man, and seem to have a regard for my brother.

You, then, will help us, no doubt, to cure him of an illusion which troubles us.

A dead girl, he says, met him, and he touched her hand." "And do you, sweet child, think that impossible ?" the Magian asked with gentle gravity.

"Have the thousands who bring not merely fruit and wine and money for their dead, but who even burn a black sheep for them--you, perhaps, have done the same--have they, I ask, done this so long in vain?
I can not believe it.

Nay, I know from the ghosts themselves that this gives them pleasure; so they must have the organs of sense." "That we may rejoice departed souls by food and drink," said Melissa, eagerly, "and that daimons at times mingle with the living, every one of course, believes; but who ever heard that warm blood stirred in them?
And how can it be possible that they should remunerate a service with money, which certainly was not coined in their airy realm, but in the mint here ?" "Not too fast, fair maid," replied the Magian, raising a warning hand.
"There is no form which these intermediate beings can not assume.