Easy enough. Melusine tilted her head to catch sight of her neck, and froze, staring at the image. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. “Do you believe me now?” She asked. At once there came an answering knock. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. "'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet.
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