My wife spoke. It was the same dear voice that I had loved so to hear,
but it was very weak and faint now; and now I trembled as I listened.
"You aren't afraid of me, darling, are you, though I am dead? I heard
all you said to me when you came, but I couldn't answer. But now I've
come back from the dead to tell you. I wasn't really so bad as you
thought me. Elvire had told me she loved Oscar. I only wrote the letter
to make it easier for you. I was too proud to tell you when you were so
angry, but I am not proud any more now. You'll love me again now, won't
you, now I'm dead? One always forgives dead people."
The poor ghost's voice was hollow and faint. Abject terror paralyzed me.
I could answer nothing.
"Say you forgive me," the thin, monotonous voice went on; "say you love
me again."