MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  A compact?  Of all the preposterous—­

DR. MACPHERSON.  Not at all.  Dozens of cases on record—­as I can show you—­ where these compacts have actually been kept. [Suddenly struck—­looking at WILLIAM.] I wonder if that boy’s a sensitive. [Hand on his chin.] I wonder ...

CATHERINE. [Echoing the DOCTOR’S words.] A sensitive?

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  What’s that?

DR. MACPHERSON.  It’s difficult to explain.  I mean a human organism so constituted that it can be informed or controlled by those who—­er—­ have—­[With a gesture.] crossed over.

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  I think I’ll put the boy to bed, Doctor.

DR. MACPHERSON.  Just a moment, Mistress Batholommey.  I’m here to find out what ails William.  William, what makes you think that Mr. Grimm is in this room?

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  I wouldn’t have the child encouraged in such ideas,
Catherine.  I—­

DR. MACPHERSON.  Sh!  Please, please. [Taking the boy on his knee.] What makes you think Peter Grimm is in this room?

WILLIAM. [Hesitating.] ...  The things he said to me.

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  Said to you?

CATHERINE. [Wonderingly.] William, ... are you sure he ...

DR. MACPHERSON.  Said to you, eh? [WILLIAM nods assent.] Old Mr. Grimm? [WILLIAM nods.] Sure of that, William?

WILLIAM.  Oh. yes, sir.

DR. MACPHERSON.  Think before you speak, my boy; what did Mr. Grimm say to you?

WILLIAM.  Lots of things ...

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  Really!

DR. MACPHERSON. [Raises his hand for silence.] How did he look, William?

WILLIAM.  I didn’t see him.

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  Ha!

DR. MACPHERSON.  You must have seen something.

WILLIAM.  I thought once I saw his hat on the peg where it used to hang. [Looks at the peg.] No, it’s gone.

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. [Remonstrating.] Doctor!

DR. MACPHERSON. [Thinking.] I wonder if he really did—­

CATHERINE.  Do you think he could have seen Uncle Peter?

PETER. [Pointing to the desk.] William!

WILLIAM.  Look! ... [Points to the picture.] That’s what I wanted to show you when you were upstairs.

CATHERINE. [Seeing the picture.] It’s his mother—­Annamarie.

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  The Lord save us—­his mother!  I didn’t know you’d heard from Annamarie.

CATHERINE.  We haven’t.

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  Then how’d that picture get into the house?

PETER.  Ah!  I knew she’d begin!  Now that she’s wound up, we shall get at the truth.

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY.  It’s a new picture.  She’s much changed.  How ever did it find its way here?

CATHERINE.  I never saw it before.  It’s very strange....  We’ve all been waiting for news of her.  Even her mother doesn’t know where she is, or—­ could Marta have received this since I—­