‘You believe in ghosts?’ asked Dan, interested, as we made our way cautiously across the wet hallway and out through the kitchen. ‘Sure. Don’t you?’ ‘I guess not. I never saw one. My mother used to swear by Ouija boards, but I never actually saw a ghost walking about. Did you?’ ‘I used to have an apartment on Tenth Street, in the village,’ I said. ‘I was sure I could hear people whispering in my bedroom in the night.’ Dan opened the screen door, and we stepped out into the frosty night air. ‘What did they say?’ he asked me. ‘I don’t know. I was always taught it was impolite to listen to other
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