Elizabeth couldn’t see their reactions because she’d squinted her eyes as tightly shut as she possibly could, but she heard the gasps of shocked surprise.

“How dare you?” she demanded in her spirit voice. “Liars! All of you, liars!”

“Elizabeth?” Mother Bates whispered tentatively.

But Elizabeth couldn’t hear her because the spirit had taken over. “I see you. I know you. You’re all liars. Actors. Pretending to believe, but you’re only trying to fool the fools. I know you for what you are, and I will expose you.”

“What . . . ? Who are you?” Madame Ophelia asked in an obvious attempt to regain control of the situation.

“A spirit. A real spirit, not like your phony Peter. Not someone you made up to fool the fools and take their money.”

“What do you want?” Madame Ophelia’s voice had lost its air of authority.

“I told you. I want to expose you for the fake that you are and then I will destroy you!”

More gasps, and Elizabeth shuddered violently and went limp, falling heavily onto Madame Ophelia, who tried to catch her but failed, being unable to move from where she was wired into her chair. Elizabeth landed on the floor in an untidy heap.

“Elizabeth!” Mother Bates cried in genuine distress.

“What happened?” Mrs. Kirkwood cried. “Is she dead?”

Mother Bates gently turned Elizabeth over. “Elizabeth, can you hear me?” She slapped Elizabeth’s face lightly in an attempt to rouse her. “She’s fainted. Does anyone have any smelling salts?”

“Persephone!” Madame shouted. “Smelling salts!”

“I . . . I think I have some,” Mrs. Regis said frantically.

The door opened and someone came in. “What happened?” Persephone asked.

A moment later, the harsh odor of ammonia assailed her, and Elizabeth jerked awake. Mother Bates was leaning over her, her beloved face creased with worry. “Elizabeth, can you hear me?”

“I . . . Yes,” Elizabeth said, lifting an unsteady hand to her head. “What happened?”

“You . . . you fainted,” Mother Bates said.

Elizabeth moaned in despair.

“Can you sit up, dear?” Mother Bates asked anxiously.

“I . . . Yes. Help me up off the floor,” she said desperately.

Persephone hurried over to assist, since Madame Ophelia could not get up, and they got Elizabeth back into her chair. She was pleased to note the way Mrs. Kirkwood and Mrs. Regis were still staring at her in stunned surprise. Madame Ophelia was much too professional to betray her true feelings, but even she looked nonplussed.

“Are you all right, dear?” Mother Bates was asking. “Can I get you anything?”

“Perhaps another dose of smelling salts,” Mrs. Regis tentatively suggested.

“Heavens no,” Elizabeth said, raising her hands to ward her off. “I’m much too awake now.” She turned to Mother Bates. “Did I say anything?”

“Well, yes,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Not something about another racehorse, I hope,” Elizabeth moaned.

“Oh no, not at all.”