“ ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘and it can start a whole adventure for itself, especially if it finds a receptive person like you or me, somebody who can see it even when its organizing powers are still weak. Then of course we help it focus by noticing it and talking to it, and paying attention to it, and its organization becomes stronger and stronger.’

“ ‘But what about a spirit like Goblin? He’s not a ghost. He doesn’t know where he came from.’

“She shot me a meaningful glance that said: Be careful. ‘Goblin is pure spirit then,’ she replied, ‘but spirits are probably organized in exactly the same way—they have the nucleus and then a kind of loose body, a force field of a body, and it’s this force field they use, just like a ghost, to gather particles to appear to someone.’

“We walked on out of the cemetery and towards the landing. The swamp looked dark and treacherous already—full of deadly things that want to kill. An evening song came from it that meant death. I tried to ignore it. Mona seemed to like it, to like the evening.

“ ‘Quinn, if only you could talk to Stirling,’ she said. ‘I think he would have so much to tell you. You know, it’s so easy with Stirling. For centuries the Talamasca has given shelter to people who see ghosts. They welcome people like you and me, and not for selfish reasons. When I was in England I went to their Motherhouse there, and I even visited the Motherhouse in Rome.’

“ ‘Sounds religious, rather like the Trappist monks or the Carmelites.’

“ ‘Well, they are sort of that way,’ she answered, ‘but they aren’t religious. They’re good without being religious. Sometimes it’s hard for Fr. Kevin to accept but he’s getting used to it. You know how it is with us Catholics. Anything supernatural that isn’t from God just has to be evil. And here you have the Talamasca studying the supernatural. But even Fr. Kevin is coming to like Stirling. Nobody could fail to be disarmed by Stirling.’

“ ‘Tell me about Fr. Kevin,’ I said. ‘What’s his story?’

“ ‘He’s a good priest,’ she said. ‘I ought to know. I tried hard to get him into bed, as I told you, but couldn’t do it. He was born here in a big house on Magazine Street, the last of eight children. His eldest sister is a whole nother generation. We call them the Stainless Mayfairs because they are all very good and never get into any trouble. When he went into the priesthood they sent him up North, and now he’s come back, principally because the family needs its own priest and also because he can teach here. He’s quite the theologian when he wants to be.’