And he _was_ nice." Barbara sighed.
Mary stared at her, seeming in the first full sweep of confidence, to be almost alarmed.
"You don't mean---- ?" She stopped, then cried, "Why, you silly, you believe in ghosts!" "No, I don't," said Barbara, not far from tears.
"Yes, you do." "No, I don't." "Of course you do, you silly." "No, I don't.

He--he's real." "Well," Mary said, with a final toss of the head, "if you go seeing ghosts like that you can't have me for your friend, Barbara Flint--you can choose, that's all." Barbara was aghast.

Such a catastrophe had never been contemplated.

Lose Mary?
Sooner life itself.

She resolved, sorrowfully, to say no more about her Friend.