They would soon be commenting on the way that each member of the family "took her death." That was so much more interesting, he thought he would just close his eyes again for a moment, until they came to that.
Their voices murmured on in a pleasing flow; his head sunk lower on the pillow, and his breathing was a little louder.

Then his hand dropped down at his side.

He was sound asleep just when Aunt Susan was about to begin one of her most thrilling ghost stories.
In the midst of an account of "a ha'nt that walked the graveyard every thirteenth Friday in the year," John Jay turned over in his sleep with a little snort.

Aunt Susan nearly jumped out of her chair, and Uncle Billy dropped his pipe.

There was a moment of frightened silence till Mammy said, "It must have been Bud, I reckon.