On an evening after Easter Day, I sat at a table in a homeward bound steamer's smoking-room, where half a dozen of us told ghost stories.
As our party broke up a man, playing Patience in the next alcove, said to me:
"I didn't quite catch the end of that last story about the Curse on the family's first-born."
"It turned out to be drains," I explained.
"As soon as new ones were put into the house the Curse was lifted, I believe. I never knew the people myself."
"Ah! I've had my drains up twice; I'm on gravel too."
"You don't mean to say you've a ghost in your house? Why didn't you join our party?"
An Author's Republic audio production.