If I were a Dominey of the Middle Ages, I think a stone around his neck and the deepest well would be the sensible way of dealing with him.
He made me feel positively uncomfortable." "I noticed it," Dominey remarked, with a faint smile.

"I'm not going to pretend that it was a pleasant conversation myself." "I've heard some ghost stories," Mangan went on, "but a spook that comes and howls once a week for ten years takes some beating." Dominey poured himself out a glass of brandy with a steady hand.
"You've been neglecting things here, Mangan," he complained.

"You ought to have come down and exorcised that ghost.

We shall have those smart maidservants of yours off to-morrow, I suppose, unless you and I can get a little ghost-laying in first." Mr.Mangan began to feel more comfortable.

The brandy and the warmth of the burning logs were creeping into his system.
"By the by, Sir Everard," he enquired, a little later on, "where are you going to sleep to-night ?" Dominey stretched himself out composedly.
"There is obviously only one place for me," he replied.