Feeling a surge of gladness, she turned around. “Oh, sir! You’re back,” she cried and then looked at him, wondering for one awful moment whether it was the present Duke. For the ghost was dressed in a magnificent frogged dressing gown and morocco slippers. He was without his wig and his short cropped hair looked silver in the moonlight.

“That voice of yours,” he went on, “seems to be able to positively shout in my head. There I was bedrooming in the guise of my descendant. There were the luscious charms of Lady Helen spread out under me. And then you come in and, damme, I have to come here. You’ve got to stop it, you know.”

“I’ve got to stop it!” cried Alice. “What about your philandering?”

“That is my affair—or affairs—my prudish wench. Well, since you are here and I am here, I may as well hear your whinings. Who has been beating you today?”

“No one.”

“Well, there you are! Now if I can just… er… take up where I left off…”

Alice sank to her knees and clutched at a fold of his dressing gown. “Oh, please, ghost,” she cried. “Help me escape from here.”

“Help you… My dear child, simply open the door and walk out, damme.”

“I can’t. I have no money. Nowhere to go.”

He frowned down at her and then stretched down his hand and pulled her to her feet. He led her to the table and lit the candles and sat down next to her.

“My late wife—may she never materialize—went mad before her death and buried her jewels.”

“Did you drive her mad?” asked Alice.

“Don’t be impudent. No. She drove herself mad. Opium, brandy and mercury in that order. Where was I? Ah, yes, the jewels. Well, she died before me. I knew where she had hidden the jewels, of course. Poor Agnes could never keep anything secret. I left them where they were for it amused me to see the efforts of my relatives trying to find them. I shall show you where they are. You dig them up, take them to a pawnbroker and you’ll have money enough for a Duchess.”

“Who will accept jewels from me?” cried Alice. “I am a dirty, common scullery maid.”

“Yes,” said the Duke heartlessly. “And spineless too. I make a very generous suggestion and all you can do is…”

“Couldn’t you pawn them for me?” said Alice, her eyes shining with hope as she clutched his sleeve. He fastidiously removed her fingers from his arm. “My dear child,” he drawled. “I find that I only exist in the hours of darkness. I do not know yet whether I can exist outside Wadham. I am bored and tired of your whinings and whimperings. Besides, I was enjoying myself immensely before you arrived on the scene.”

“You are heartless,” sobbed Alice.